The Brambles of Affection (Cronkri)

Part 1: Kankri Vantas

I have to find him. Damn right you do. He's going to die. This is the real naked and afraid, only there's no camera crew to step in when things get ugly.

I have to find him. Run faster. You have to run faster. Ignore the branches and undergrowth opening clean cuts along your arms and legs. It hurts. But it's worth it for him, isn't it? It's worth it for Cronus.

It's almost too late. It can't be. No, you got here in time. You can't be too late. You know he's going to be fine. Cronus-he's strong. You're not. That much is obvious, you have salty tears running down your filthy face, making clean smudges over your dirtied cheeks.

He's dead. He's not. You know he's not. Everyone is dead anyways, how is double death even possible? Is it? He can't be dead. You would have felt something anyways, some kind of jolt or feeling of dread consuming your thumping bloodpusher. That's how it is, isn't it? When someone you love gets in too deep. You can just feel it. But no, Kankri-you don't feel any different than you did a second ago. Desperate. Cold. Afraid.

He's not dead. There's no way. You want to believe that he's not. You need to believe he's alright, that you're going to find him unharmed in a second. He'd look at you with those milky white eyes and smile, and tease you about how torn up your clothes are and how many bruises and cuts you've gotten from sprinting through the forest and tripping on occasion. The two of you would go to your hive, patch up, and watch Grease just like you used to before he went missing. Before you had to worry about getting the information about who took him. About where he'd be.

Dead. Not dead. Where he'd be-maybe slightly injured, but not dead. The thought of old times brought a fresh batch of translucent red tears pooling into your vision, and a strangled cry released from your hoarse throat.

"CRONUS!" You screamed. You couldn't do this for much longer. Too much yelling-your voice was scratchy and splintered, and for one time in your existence after death you wished you had your calm, composed, boring self back just so you could have the clean voice that could catch Cronus's attention.

He's dead. He's dead. Your worst fears were confirmed. Kankri Vantas stood, hunched over and panting, at the edge of a clearing with his eyes planted near the middle. Where Cronus was hung up on a large wooden pole, a single stake rammed through his chest holding him up. The seadweller no longer had the fluttering earfins Kankri was so fond of. Only one of his lightning-bolt shaped horns remained. And the blood. Kankri had never seen so much blood coming from one being in-well, forever. Cronus's face was so mangled and bloodied that Kankri couldn't even tell where his mouth was. He was wearing the Vantas's dog tag necklace.

Kankri turned around and vomited.

Too much. This is too much to press onto the reader at one time. Let's go back a little, back before Kankri's bloodpusher was torn in two over the sight in the middle of an otherwise beautiful clearing.

It was a beautiful day in this particular bubble. Very bright, just the right amount of clouds, and the smell. God, that wonderful, thick, Earthy smell. It was perfect.

Kankri Vantas walked along a hillside, clad in tight jeans and a red t-shirt with a plaid coverup. His sweater was long gone-the new signature accessory was two dogtags hanging loosely around his neck from a long chain.

His new look complimented his features well, of course. He looked composed, well mannered-but relaxed, which is definitely different from when he first entered the bubbles. His ass was so tight then that the point of a needle wouldn't be able to push up there.

He held his arms above his head and stretched, yawning and seating himself on the grassy hillside and just watched the trees. However boring they may be, the bubbles were beautiful sometimes. As they were now, pleasing every one of Kankri's senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell, even the taste of the air was comforting.

"Hey, chief," a voice behind him spoke. It took a turn at the torso to figure out who it was, but-it was pretty obvious anyways. "Cronus," Kankri said, "come sit. If you've got the time, anyways. It's gorgeous out today."

"Damn right it is," he responded with a chuckle.

"Language, Cronus."

"Right. Sorry, babe."

The two sat in silence for just a few awkward moments.
"Did you get things worked out between you and Kurloz yet?" Kankri looked over at the seadweller.
"Hm? Nah. The guy vwon't listen to reason long enough for me to try, just swvings a vwicked right hook at me vwhenevwer I try an start explainin myself," Cronus snorts.

"If you ever want me to intervene, just let me know. I'd be happy to help, but it is something you're going to have to learn how to handle yourself over time. Either learn how to defend yourself so you can block his attacks long enough to talk civilly or have Mituna deliver the message, but I doubt he'd be completely honest with its contents unless it was written out."

"I get it chief, I'm vworkin on it. Relax. Vwe'll be best friends in no time."

"The point is to solve the tension between the two of you, not pose as best friends."

"Hey, you nevwer knowv, chief. Maybe he's a cool guy."

"Mhm. I don't like him, so if you do become 'best friends' then you can leave me out of whatever best-friendy excursions you take."

"Babe, don't be like that," Cronus whined. "Drop it, Ampora." The two sat in silence again, but it wasn't awkward.

"Kanny, did you evwer get ovwer Latula?" The violetblood spoke up again. "Why do you ask?" Kankri fired back. "Just curious."

The silence grew out again. It was a little unbearable. Finally, Kankri reluctantly broke it. "Yes. I did. Whatever feelings I had for her are gone. And you, with Meenah?"

"Come on, Vantas, I got ovwer her perigrees ago." His handsome laugh sounded through the air and Cronus hooked an arm around Kankri, and the two just looked off to the trees in the distance. "Sure."

It was a beautiful day.