[P] *now or never; [tw]

[Tarquin]

Quinn was more than a little tired of traipsing through new lives and places, but he could still see the good in some of it. He had gained from some of those once unwanted lifetimes and places that he hadn't wished to be. Quinn had not wanted to be in the Rift; he'd been over it before it began. Watched with disinterested eyes as the lands fell into themselves and changed. He had seen the one land flood over and the shell-island rise up from the middle and the sight had not stirred him. It meant more to him later, and now. Because of what had happened there, as mixed as his emotions still were over it. It had paved the way for what he had ended up feeling and who he had ended up with. He'd plucked a barnacle from the insides of the larger one he'd been led to, and he knows that he's not the only one who had. Quinn doesn't wear the necklace that he's attached it to, because he worries over it. More often than not, Quinn simply found a place to bury it for a time. It had been enchanted to keep, to not decay or fall apart, and Quinn trusted in that. Had to. He was comforted by the fact that his wedding ring was still attached to him in this form; now a band right through his ear that would need to be ripped out to be lost. It was the one thing he had of a material sort that he did not want to lose above the other things. The one other item like that, however, was lost to time. Yet this much was enough to keep him content, though he would give it up to have the one who had given him the ring back for good. It felt like something had been torn out of him when Vhetiveer was gone for too long, and he did not like the resounding ache of it. That it had began wrong between them -- Quinn's mistake, his quiet shame that he cannot find total regret for; never for Ithiel, or for their lost Ucal -- doesn't change what it had become. He doesn't quite understand how, but he was still grateful for it. And he silently mourns the fact that what they had built had finally crumbled to dust and ashes. Yes, the Rampaging Rabbit, the brothel, was gone. The titles and powers were gone. Quinn isn't sure what he feels about that absence that he had grown so accustomed to. That those abilities had become so much a part of him that it was like missing something vital with them gone. Not as vital as his missing husband all that time, no. But it still made a difference, an impact. Changed his very outlook on life and all that he could and could not do. He isn't pleased at the limitations of this form, at being equine. Though if it brings Vhetiveer back to him, then all of those losses were worth it. He would not regret giving up the powers and limitations to be with Vhet, and it is what keeps him going, pushing on through. Makes him keep up the chase of the hunt; to draw Vhetiveer out, and back to him. Were there those little worries that this might be the Rift again to claim another life? Certainly; he was pressed back into equine form and moving through unknown lands with the scents of others all along it. Perhaps scents that he sort of remembers and wishes that he didn't. Yet he doesn't think that he would be powerless back there, not when he had been so very strong the last time he stood there on Rift lands. He had not ended from lack of power, no. Quinn had trusted that even his memory lacking son was no threat to him; a trust crushed the same way that Remriel's teeth had crushed and pierced Quinn's windpipe. He had fallen and he had dragged Remriel with him through space and time. Then Quinn had gone his own way; lost and bleak and searching for anything to fill that void again. The battles and blood, the distractions. Then there was Vhetiveer and everything had changed. It wasn't a rush and all at once, but it wasn't slow, either. There was pain and need and the grasping for comfort; learning about Ucal had been harsh and difficult, and Quinn had been upset and understanding all the same. He had held the box of ashes and listened to the story, feeling like he was being carved from the inside out and wishing that he knew how to fix things. He had never found out how to do it, though. His searching had come up with nothing, though he had still kept his ear open for any word at what could help. He had been tempted to take a reaper job, if only because of what he had already endured, and that he felt that he was qualified for it; and of course because he'd been alone again and suffering. At the edge of all that, though, was to find out more for Ucal's sake. His questions of Ucal had been the very reason the job had been offered to Quinn. A push that he would learn for himself these things, but the path hadn't been as clear as Quinn wished it to be. He did not know if he could do it, be what he needed to be to do that sort of job in truth. To guide the dead and lost souls to wherever they needed to go in the after. He did not think he had the right personality for it, the compassion one might need to do it. So he hadn't done it, and continued to wonder if that had been a mistake. Vhetiveer hadn't been there to ask the opinion of, and now? Quinn no longer had the option, and maybe having that choice taken away was a comfort to him now. He didn't like that truth, but he knew it for what it was. Another flaw. But Vhetiveer seemed to love him, flaws and all, and that was what kept Quinn going these days. Why he was looking at the silver linings in the hand he'd been currently dealt with this limited form and this place. He would make due with it, because Vhetiveer was near. Because the three eyed, coppertone stallion was here, finally, and Quinn could ask that lingering question that pushed at him. Vhetiveer responded to the name, to Choke, and sidled up beside Quinn, telling him that of course he could call Vhet that. "Do you want me to?" He asks, but the copper stallion's nose was in Quinn's hair, and he flicked his left ear with the wedding band in it; pleased to show off that it remained on him, even in this form. It had not escaped him, either, in these few minutes that Vhetiveer's was now formed into a band through the stallion's nose. He supposed that the look suited Vhetiveer well enough. Those thoughts were drawn away by the next words that Vhet breathed at him, and Quinn stills. Found him. Quinn knew what those words meant, that Vhetiveer had been seeking a way for Ucal to live again. To live at all. The first word Ucal had spoken isn't something Quinn knows, and he merely peers at Vhetiveer and rolls it around within his mind. "How is he? Where is he?" Because Quinn wanted to meet that lost son of theirs; wanted to know more. And then Quinn's thoughts turn dark and churning, remembering how Ucal's end came to be— and the boy's beginnings, too. Reminded Quinn of just how fragile some of this felt to him still. How delicate the cornerstone of their relationship seemed in Quinn's mind when Vhetiveer had been gone from his side for so long. How much he did not deserve Vhetiveer beside him now. "I still wonder how, sometimes." The words were so quiet and uncertain. He takes a wavering breath and he continues; "How you can still love us, love me, when it was loneliness, lust, deception and—" He struggles for a moment, eyes shuttered; "force, that I used to create Ithiel and Ucal with you." He was simmering, burning on the inside over everything it stirred up within him. "And I don't know how," His mouth is a pressed line, he shakes his head once. "I can't regret it." And he thinks that maybe he should, because Vhetiveer should never have been thrown into that situation, and yet, if he hadn't been, then none of them would be where they were today. If it hadn't happened, then Vhetiveer wouldn't be with him now. Ithiel and Ucal wouldn't exist. It was difficult to regret how that had come to pass. I'M READY TO BLEED TO MAKE AMENDS *tarquin

image credits: yokamycelium

@Vhetiveer