Blackfeather Woods stay high

i hope you have time anthony <3

Sheogorath had made sure to feed @Relmyna, to give her the herbs she needed to recover from her wounds and, at times, he would give her poisonous ones instead. To see her shrink back as he draped her healing wounds with poison ivy had made him smirk, but it was hard to tell whether he knew what he was doing or had made a mistake from the outside. He always wore that smirk, not just when he would hurt her, not just when he would heal her or give her food and water.

She would never be a whole wolf again, not in the way that she had been before; but she lived. Sheogorath saw himself as her angel, someone who had saved her. Freed her from the bonds she so wished to be freed from and then had rescued her life when her mental systems had shut down. Now he was left with nothing but to recreate her just the way that he pleased.

He had not seen much of his brother since his return and so it was @Damien that Sheogorath sought that day when his ghostly form moved through the forests. He had left Relmyna behind, for while she had recovered well he was not sure she was ready to meet her other masters yet. Sheogorath searched for a scent trail, hoping he would find one soon so that he may spend some alone time with his dear brother.

Sorry for taking this long! <3<3

The memory of him was full of sensations. It was still a blur, a foggy image, but the conversations he'd had with whoever he'd crossed paths with since his return had made it clear that Cicero wasn't only Damien's brother... He'd been an important part of his life as well. But he felt too guilty for not remembering him fully to seek him out yet, and so he'd made his damn best to avoid contact with him until his memories ere back, as he had with practically everyone else but Potema. And still, his sneaking techniques would never surpass those of his brother.

Cicero caught the dark prince off-guard as it was to be expected. Damien was ignoring his surroundings while taking his share from a cache and enjoying it too much to see that he'd been found, and did not until Cicero was too close to dodge. He dropped the half-eaten deer leg at the sound of his brother's pawsteps and turned his head to seek his figure as it materialized from shadows. The look in his eyes was full of guilt, full of shame, to contrast with that smug smirk that always seemed to decorate the speaker's face. "brother?" he called, an attempt at a greeting that left an odd taste in Damien's mouth.

Some things never changed. Sheogorath could not help but grin at the sight of his brother. The way he looked was like a child that had been caught stealing, but he knew that it was not the food he was eating that made Damien uncomfortable here. It was him, or rather, Cicero. Even now Sheogorath felt a strange tingle that lead from his stomach to the tips of his toes, a longing, but it was much different from Cicero's. For him it was a longing for something that he could not have, something forbidden, but also something that Cicero had not yet succeeded at, something he could take from the pathetic dolt he shared his body with.

He licked his lips and smirked as he said, "Some things never change, do they, brother." He moved in closer, but did not touch Damien, waiting a wolf's distance away, head and ears upright as he stared at his brother. "How have you been since the return?" Sheogorath had no idea that Damien'd lost a portion of his mind. The only thing that rang odd to him was that Damien hadn't yet reclaimed his throne, or tried to, since his return. He'd never been one to accept any less than royal treatment, so why now? But he did not know of his brother's amnesia and so he could not play into it to get what he wanted.

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The distance at which his brother settled felt strange. Their bodies did not touch, but still Damien could feel a longing in his skin for what he'd gotten used to before the mental damage. Sensory memory, like ghost limbs, that was how it felt: as though there was a part of him that could still feel his brother's touch even if he was a wolf's distance away.

But overall the feeling of being around Cicero was all but easy for Damien. He knew that he'd forgotten too much about them to act normally in his presence, and his attempts at keeping it casual did little to help him. He looked at him with the confidence he could staple together and nodded at his comment, as though he knew what he was talking about. He tried to go back to the remains of the leg in an attempt to divert some of the attention from him, but Cicero's voice called again, this time with a direct answer that Damien couldn't simply shrug off. I'm good... he managed to say while chewing a chunk of flesh, I've been taking care of Potema and the pups... he added to his response, but this time he did turn to look straight at his brother for once after swallowing. What about you...? he asked shyly, and a glint of his brother's eye caught all of Damien's senses hostage. Everything else was a blur, unimportant, and through his head flashed so many thoughts, so many emotions.

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The words spoken were so awkward that Sheogorath was not sure whether to enjoy them or cringe. But there was something different in the way that Damien acted in comparison to how things had been before with Cicero; and Sheogorath wanted to find out whether it was the distance he'd kept or something that had happened in Damien's time away.

"Me too," he answered simply. He too had been taking care of Potema and the pups, helped her survive. He looked like he hesitated a moment and then he asked: ".. Did something happen in your time away? You seem..." He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth in thought before adding: "... Like you don't remember us." Or maybe the problem was that he remembered too well, Sheo thought, but who was to say? All he could do was angle around hoping to catch the truth eventually.

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His mind games had always been Damien's weakness. There was something in the way that Cicero spoke to him that made the shadow prince vulnerable to his control, even when he didn't realize. Especially when he didn't realize.

But there were no visible tricks this time... Not that Damien would have realized, feeling like complete strangers with his brother... But still Damien felt unsure about answering. He felt guilty for not remembering, like an absolute dick because it was his brother's memories that had gone... But mostly ridiculous having once felt so much pride over his impeccable memory.

I don't... he said, a revelation that he didn't see coming. He was visibly nervous now, as though he regretted having said it, but there was no turning back. I don't... Remember a lot of things... he added like it would help at all. It didn't. I had an accident, fell off a ledge and hit my head... he decided to explain now that the truth was out. It was liberating while it didn't cease to be scary, having exposed himself and what he'd seen as a weakness ever since the memories had started flowing back was something Damien never saw himself doing until that moment. But there was something, a little voice deep in his head that told him that it was okay to talk about it with his beloved brother... Oh, how wrong was the little voice, how wrong indeed.

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Were it not for the games that he was playing — for though he might have made a decent Cicero, Sheogorath's feelings weren't exactly the ones that ran so deep when it came to his brother — he may have smirked at the revelations. He didn't remember. A lot had happened between the brothers and yet so little. Sheogorath could feel a tingle in his stomach much like the one he knew Cicero held for his brother, but still so very different at the same time.

He cast his eyes down at Damien's revelations in some kind of sadness, and then he looked up at Damien, mismatched eyes seeking his brother's. "We were lovers," he said, choosing to go the subtle route, knowing how flighty Damien may be. He only looked at his brother and sought out his eyes, sought out a connection, sought out any signs of whether or not his plans had any way of succeeding.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOI HE GOTCHA

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From all the things he had imagined, despite the tingle in the pit of his stomach that told him not to jump into premature conclusions, Damien hadn't expected the truth to be such. His brother's eyes were staring down at him spilling honesty that seemed to lick the edges of cruelty, and Damien froze, trapped in the truth. His mind tried to process the thoughts, the words, and his memories —although still blurry to a fault— had started making sense.

He did feel something more for his brother that could not be called fraternal love.

His lips split slowly, jaw dropping significantly before he realized that he'd been caught in slippery terrain. Shaking his head he turns to gather his attention on the bone for a moment, looking away from his brother whose proximity wreaked havoc on Damien's good senses. He simply didn't know how to deal with the situation, and his voice did not rise to formulate an answer.

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never a dull moment w/these two :') (or.. three)

He looked away, guilty as he was, stared at the bone that meant nothing to divert his attention from how much his brother meant to him. Sheogorath felt that he had Damien trapped there, but perhaps it needed time. He was eager to push Damien, to finally get what he longed for, to take from Cicero the only thing in the world that he truly wanted, rob him forever of that special moment... But he felt haste might chase the skittish tease away.

"Nobody has to know, if you don't want them to. They never did know," said Sheogorath as he stayed in place, sitting down in front of Damien and looking like he wasn't about to jump Damien's bones. He smiled, somewhat bashfully, and said, "It could remain our secret."

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Could it be true? Could have Damien been involved with his own brother in such a way? Damien couldn't shake the thought off his head that Meldresi would have had them hanged had she known this secret, but there was still nothing in Damien's memory to prove Cicero's words to be right. There was a feeling, deep down in Damien's groins, that there was truth to his brother's statements anyway, and that had been enough to rattle his reasoning.

Damien looks left and right as if making sure no one was listening, and then his focus falls back on Cicero as his troubled eyes contemplate his expression. There was a serious conflict between Cicero's claim and Damien's Morals, deep enough to make the dark prince question his own truth. Nothing had ever been as paradoxical in Damien's life as this, and it was clearly costing him a great effort to come up with a response. Don't you dare tell anyone, he threatens as he pulls his weight up from his seat, leaving the bone unguarded as he prepares to leave. I... need time to think... he states, speaking clearly and collectedly, nothing like the mess that was his mind. I will find you if I need anything, he adds, and with that he dismisses himself from the tense atmosphere that Cicero had easily managed to build.

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"I might," Sheogorath was quick to say when Damien more or less threatened him not to tell anyone else. "Unless you should choose to seek me out to help me sate these wicked desires once more, I may not be able to stop myself from telling everyone all about it." He licked his lips and smirked wickedly as he added: "In all their wicked detail." He turned to look at his brother, hoping to see the fear upon his face but moreover, hoping that he would see something that indicated he realised his choices.

Damien left, then, and Sheogorath called after him: "Don't leave me hanging for too long, brother." After Damien left he laughed to himself, not loud enough for anyone to hear, but pleased and amused with himself and the trap that he had managed to lay down for his beloved brother.

feel free to just archive or post again, whatever you want @Damien