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(no subject)

Who: Sheogorath and you!
What: The grand opening of the strange new business in town
When: Late August onward
Where: The most asymmetrical building in town
Warning(s): Discussion of surgical procedure, sutures, needles

The building is quite a sight, one half more Queen Anne and the other Italianate. Hanging evenly between the two entrances is a sign, one side reading "St Arden-Sul Surgery" and the other reading "Butterfly's Fang Salon." There are two doors on the same face of the building, one solid, the other ornamented with windows in the shape of eyes and flower petals.

Should one enter the eastern door (the one on the left), they will find themselves in a clinic. The entrance is warm and inviting, and the patient beds look quite comfortable. There are flowers on the bedside table, and the lighting is warm. A colorful stained glass window takes up a large part of the eastern wall.

That feeling shifts completely at around the halfway point of the room, where the place becomes cold and austere. These 'beds' are barely more than surgical slabs, and the floor already seems bloodstained, despite there not having been any patients yet. In the corner, there's a bust of a person screaming in agony. Another window set into the wall looks dusty and grimy despite being new, letting only a little light trickle in.

Entering through the western door will lead one into a charming... and daunting... parlor. A few chairs are lined up against the wall, reclined for the comfort of the patrons. Again, the decor is colorful towards the front of the shop. There are bright, hand-drawn illustrations lining the walls and patterned tiles decorating the floor. The back of the parlor, on the other hand, is ornamented with chains and leather while the floor is rough, gray stone.

For the purpose of the grand opening, the patterned wooden divider that separates the two businesses has been partially pulled back, allowing the two sides to glimpse one another.

Sheogorath is drifting from one side to the other, greeting guests and offering them tea. He's dressed quite smartly, looking much more dapper gent than pure element of chaos. His eyes are what betray his unfettered excitement, their being a kaleidoscopic shimmer of purple and gold.

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Max nods along solemnly. Until the change to a chipper attitude inevitably tugs a smile back onto his face. He's still very excited but also feeling a lot more grounded now.

"I've heard that about getting a tattoo," he answers. "Whatever you recommend, I'll follow it completely."

"I'll send you home with some care instructions, too. Can't keep it all in your head, if your head's anything like mine. Sometimes I turn my mind over to read the instructions on the bottom, only to see the words 'KEEP UPRIGHT.' Then I open my mind up and all my thoughts have gotten jumbled up and stuck to the lid."

"I... can't say I've ever felt quite like that. My memory is pretty good, usually." Maybe that's not completely true. There have been times when his memories of things got... fuzzy. But those were memories he might not want to see clearer if he ever had the choice.

"I have my entire recipe book memorized, actually. I'd be really upset if that got all jumbled."

“Well, we’ll send you home with the instructions anyway, so you can keep more space in your head for recipes. How does that sound?”

"Sounds perfect." He starts to settle, then pops up again with another sudden thought. "What's your favorite food? I can try to make it for you." Food is a great way to get to know people.

"Well, I'm quite fond of pastries, but I also feel nostalgia towards one of my husband's favorite meals: bacon and eggs. Of course, we rarely have access to the sort of bacon and eggs he knew from his mortal life, so usually we make do with smoked Baliwog legs and Grummite eggs. Oh, but I also do love a nice Gruyere omelette. Augh! Why must there be so many choices?!"

"If you're talking about pork bacon, I can definitely do that. Bacon and eggs is such an easy dish I'd throw that one in as an extra. Honestly, if it's so hard to pick just one it doesn't have to be just one." As if Max is ever going to be upset about being asked to cook or bake more?

"He would have really liked you, you know. Eil, I mean. He wasn't a complicated man, and small gestures and a sense of safety were more than enough to satisfy him. I wasn't especially good at providing either. Bacon and eggs I could do, though. Ohhhh, and he had such nice hair. So full of twists and turns, it was magical. I loved it when he'd go out in a light mist and then come inside, he'd look like he had a head full of diamonds!" We, uh, we seem to have lost the topic, Max.

"Eil..." Max makes the name sound reverent.

Some might say being called uncomplicated would be an insult but Max knows that's so far from the truth. What's wrong with being content with simple things? At the end of all days, it's the small gestures that stick in a loved-one's mind. Or, it is for him. His dad could have been a hero that saved a whole bus full of children and Max would still remember him most fondly for all those nights when he dragged himself home after a full day of work, hands still covered in motor oil, so he could read a bed time story to Max and his sister and make sure they brushed their teeth. It's always the small things, scent, or a taste, that brings him back to those moments.

Now they both seem to have drifted off-topic.

"I'm sorry you have to miss him. I... I'm scared of making Valdis and Ylva miss me like that one day. It's worth it, right?"

"Is it worth it, to know that someday you'll tear a hole in their hearts in a way that can't be filled? Is it worth it, to know that they'll carry you as an indelible mark, unable to forget you even if they tried? Is it worth it, to cause an eternal grief that burns steady and hot in your guts and your head? Is it worth it, for them, to carry that pain?"

Max sees colors on the next word the Madgod says.

"ABSOLUTELY."

Relief smoothes the creases out of Max's face like a hot iron over cotton. The pop of color before his eyes is so spectacular it's threatening tears again. He's been so scared of the hurt losing him would cause the loves of his life that he almost let it overshadow the beauty of what they have, what he has with them.

"I want to carry a mark that's just for them," he says, putting his hand over his chest. "Because they'll both be with me forever in my heart."

“Symbols are powerful things, you know, even with Daedric Princes. Especially with Daedric Princes.” He smiles in a way that is at once warm and unnerving.

“Tell me, would you like me to include a vow in your work? It wouldn’t be perceptible to anyone, but it would be a sort of affirmation, of your conviction to hold dearly to love despite the pain. It would be a little more uncomfortable, but you never know when a vow of unflinching love, etched into your flesh, might come in handy. It’s absolutely up to you, of course. I know this is already quite a step for you.”

The Daedric Prince's smile is not unlike a vampire's, so even if it shouldn't be, it's a comforting expression to see. Max's expression, by comparison, lights up with a powerful hunger as soon as he's offered that extra touch.

"Yes. I'd like that very much. I can take the pain, I promise. Will it be like... like a magical spell woven into the mark?"

“The work will go deeper into your tissue, and the lines will be formed from inscriptions, woven together to form a solid marking. It won’t have any impact on your mobility or your after-care, but those words will contain power. Magic, you could call it.”

Implying that you could also call it something other than magic…

Max thinks on that for a moment. When it comes to magic, he's not the most knowledgeable, but he does know better than to sign agreements he hasn't heard all the terms of.

"Is there a downside? Some... way it could hurt me or them if the magic goes wrong?"

"Oh, it could certainly hurt you. It's an affirmation of love, after all, and love is far from a painless thing if it's real and true. Think of it as letting your heart's spirit speak to your heart's flesh. Heartbreak will become agony. Fear for a loved one will send actual chills running through you. And the strength you muster out of love will become far more than emotional fortitude."

That vampire's smile crosses his face yet again.

"You are the sort of mortal that wears your heart on your sleeve, Max Maximum. What this is is a realization of that. Nothing hidden, nothing insidious, just an unfiltered truth sown in the earth and let to grow in the light of day."

The innocent part of him wants to argue 'Love isn't painful!' He can't, because he knows there's nothing more agonizing than watching the person he loves suffer. It's an ache so terrible it feels like it could pick him apart. It might be a relief, in some ways, if it became a real physical pain instead of an invisible one that merely rends his mind.

"One day I hope maybe I can be more than mortal so it can last longer, but this feels right. Please, I want this with all my heart."

"Then your heart will have what it asks for. Now, make yourself comfortable. I'm going to make another pot of tea before we get started. Endeavors like this require a proper few cups."

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