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Messages - Zero Undead
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41
« on: July 05, 2019, 01:32:34 pm »
The dormitory was relatively quiet. Most of the candidates were either in drills or classes, which meant Liam had his room to himself and used the distraction-free time to study silently. At Stage 4 he didn’t bother to question why he had been given leave to remain in his room at this time. By this Stage no candidate should really be questioning anything. If they wanted them to know, they would have told them, and if they didn’t want them to know, then it was none of their business.
Sadly not all candidates realized this, why they were allowed to continue with the program was anyone’s guess. If it were up to Liam such people would be culled if they hadn’t learned something so simple and vital by Stage 4. Lucky for them it was not up to him. He supposed it would drop Pilot numbers too sharply if they got rid of all recruits that were less astute than him. A Thorne always set a very high standard, after all.
Liam turned when someone entered his room unannounced, not at all surprised to see a Pilot. Who else would come into his room without knocking? Almost no one.
“Sir.” He responded respectfully, standing and saluting. Liam didn’t bat an eye when Pilot Broin expressed a desire to speak with him. Of course the man wanted to speak with him; there was no other reason for him to be there. He said nothing and followed obediently into the hall without question. Many candidates would have been nervous at being asked to follow a Pilot anywhere, but not Candidate Thorne. Liam was perfectly obedient and respectful, but he was also clearly at ease.
42
« on: April 27, 2019, 12:43:17 pm »
The week wasn’t any less hectic, strenuous, or impossibly packed with drills, simulations, and photo shoots than any other week, but aside from being quite worn out, Nakiri felt pretty light as he made his way home. A small grocery shopping bag swung in his hand as he nearly skipped down the walkways towards the very lavish housing where he resided. It wasn’t really a mystery to him why he was in such good spirits. He had been riding an emotional high all week.
Sure last Friday had started out a little rocky, but by the end it had been a lot better. The rest of the weekend had fallen into a very neat and pleasant line. He felt a little surge of warmth and happiness as he remembered dinner with the Hext family Sunday evening. Nonna Hext, what a delightful woman! Nakiri thought she had liked him, which boded well in his mind, since he was friends with both of her grandchildren.
The only thing that could have made the week better would be knowing for sure he would see Lupo again soon. It was hard to admit that he had truly grown fond of the goofy dog’s company, but the panic Nakiri had felt at the idea of driving him away made it hard to deny that he liked Lupo a great deal. He had broken his reluctance to cook just to please the man!
Oddly it did not bother him as much as he thought it should. Nakiri hummed softly to himself, unconsciously smiling as he approached home. Nothing could ruin this week.
Nothing until he drew close to the building lobby and saw a familiar silhouette standing near the elevators. Both his smile and his step faltered as he drew closer and recognized his mother’s severe face. For a flickering moment elation washed over him as his eyes grew round as saucers. A wave of emotions rushed over him as he realized that his mother was standing before him in the flesh - it was the first time he had seen her since being forced to go to the ATC when he was only thirteen years old.
Joy was rapidly replaced with trepidation. The woman before him may have radiated the same heat that he did, but her expression and demeanor were cold as ice. So much so that a shiver went through him as he lowered his eyes timidly.
“Mother, I wasn’t expecting you.” It was a hesitant, formal greeting. Why was she there? As much as he wished it was a simple social visit, Nakiri knew better.
“Nakiri.” His name was clipped, as if the very act of saying it or speaking to him was something unpleasant. She gestured to the elevator. “Show me your apartment.”
It wasn’t spoken like a request to be invited in. Nakiri shuffled quickly to obey the order, hands trembling as the elevator opened for his chip. When the doors slid shut behind them, a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Neither spoke as they were taken up. He didn’t dare speak first, wiping his hands against his (very fashionable) jeans nervously to dry them as they became clammy. His mother had called to berate and demean him more than once since he had begun spending time with Lupo. It was no doubt to him that was the purpose of this unexpected visit.
Well he should have expected that things would only escalate. It was inevitable that eventually his mother would come to give him her condemnation in person. At least this was to be a private humiliation, performed in his living quarters, that should be expected as well. Of course his mother would not want to have a public spat with him.
That would only cause her more embarrassment.
Each floor in the most silent and uncomfortable elevator ride in his life only saw Nakiri’s anxiety level spike higher. When the doors finally opened he practically raced out of the suffocating metal box and towards his apartment door. The image of a tightening noose flashed through his mind as he reached home and pushed the door open quickly. He knew his mother was following him at a leisurely pace, that woman would not be seen to rush anywhere.
He moved to the kitchen and dropped his bag onto the counter, digging through cupboards to pull out two wine glasses, then grabbing a bottle out of the freezer.
Fox-like ears twitched as the sound of the apartment door closing reached them.
“I’ll pour us a drink.” It was all he could think to say. Nakiri had to say something, had to do something or risk going crazy. So he poured the wine with shaking hands as he waited for his mother to say something.
To say anything.
Trembling movements stilled as Nayumi Devoss moved around the kitchen island towards him. She was growing older, but the only sign of her age was the streaks of grey woven through fire red-orange hair and small creases around her almond-shaped pink eyes. It had been so long since he had seen the diminutive woman, who was an inch shorter and just as slight in build. A lump formed in his throat as tears prickled in his eyes. He wished to throw his arms around her but didn’t dare.
She was still cold.
Nakiri heard it first. The resounding, echoing crack as his ears folded back in confusion, then hung further as realization dawned as the burning sting made itself known against the skin along one side of his face. She had slapped him. His mother had slapped him!
In disbelief he raised a hand to touch the seared flesh of his cheek. The pain on the surface was not nearly as bad as the stabbing one that wrenched through his chest.
“Mother I -” How could he even begin to explain or excuse himself? There would be no explanations, it seemed.
“Silence, stupid child. You have shamed your mother for the last time. No child of mine will be the whore of some non-kitsuni fool.” Each word made him wince with the venom with which they were delivered.
“Please Mother, I have just been so lonely. I couldn’t stand being alone anymore. If you just arrange to give me a husband I will marry them, anyone you choose, I will be a good husband to them. I swear. I will never see him again, I promise.” The words came out in a rush as Nakiri dropped to his knees, another stabbing pain went through his chest at the prospect of turning Lupo away forever in favor of a husband, but to appease his mother, Nakiri would have promised anything and everything, so desperate was he to win back her approval - something he had not had since he had left home so many years before.
“A husband? Bah! I will not subject another kitsuni to this fate. You are selfish for even asking. They would be forced to move away from their home to live with you and then what? You would both be miserable. I will not do it. I will not perpetuate this farce of removing kitsuni from where they belong. If you had any sense of honor or respect for your people you would have died in that torture chamber they call a training ground. The Nakiri that was my son died when he was thirteen. You are not mine.” The words were earth-shattering, like a thunderclap echoing through his head.
You are not mine.
The faint, tenuous little psychic presence in the back of his mind blew out like a candle as Nayumi Devoss, his mother no more, turned from him and left his apartment without a further backward glance.
It may have been an eternity, or possibly only a few seconds, but Nakiri was frozen in place, on his knees on his kitchen floor, as the reality of the situation slowly rolled over him like a roiling wave of darkness. Something almost tangible squirmed within his chest and gut, a burning pain that threatened to overwhelm him even as it left him empty and cold.
Nakiri didn’t know how long he simply stayed there, but at long last he managed to rouse himself enough to try to grip the counter. He couldn’t see, tears blinded him as he attempted to regain his feet, but quickly gave up and sank back to the floor as his tails and arms wrapped around himself. Soft whimpers rose into choked sobs as the sense of being alone slammed into him harder than it had since that horrible day when he had left home.
The loneliness was a physical pain that twisted in his chest, threatening to choke him in truth as he gasped and struggled to breathe. Terror like nothing he had ever felt before clawed at him, because he knew that he would die here alone if he did not move from where he sat on the floor.
Nakiri knew there were knives in the drawers, so temptingly close. No, he couldn’t stay in the kitchen. Where could he go? Fleetingly he thought about the bathroom, but their were razors, the tub could be filled and one of his many curlers, straighteners, and other such electrical instruments could be thrown in with him. Maybe he could climb into bed, but the sheets could be fashioned into a noose, he could see it flash through his mind tauntingly.
Trying to get back to his feet only caused him to collapse all the way to the floor with a desperate whine. Nakiri considered curling into a ball again and just sitting until the despair consumed him, but instead he began crawling blindly through his apartment, feeling his way along as his eyes refused to clear no matter how many times or how rapidly he blinked.
It was hard to focus on where he was going. Trying to visualize his apartment was nearly impossible as he became more hysterical with each passing moment. He found his closet door and pushed it open. Could he strangle himself on some of the clothing inside? Nakiri pushed the thoughts aside and crawled into the dark, enclosed space. Funny how the elevator had felt suffocating and this was almost comforting.
Still moving blindly, he felt his way to the back corner until his hand brushed against something soft. A horrendous racket flooded the silent closet. It was the stupid turkey Lupo had given him. Nakiri had immediately loathed that ridiculous electronic gobble when he’d opened the package from the silly dog that had somehow become his friend.
Well he certainly didn’t think it was stupid now. Nakiri brought the stuffed toy to his chest and hugged it, burying his face against the material as it gobbled at him again. His body curled around the gift and shook as he cried, letting out the pain the only way currently available to him, because if he didn’t release it he knew it would destroy him. Honestly, Nakiri wasn’t sure the agony wracking his insides wouldn’t kill him no matter what he did.
“I wish you were here.” He sobbed almost incoherently into the dark.
Gobble.
43
« on: November 09, 2018, 02:43:04 pm »
Hmm. No, I can't wait that long. Does he have a favorite cookie?
44
« on: November 09, 2018, 11:59:59 am »
S.O.S
Lupa I think I accidentally hurt Lupo's feelings. What do I do?
45
« on: November 06, 2018, 03:41:48 pm »
BASIC INFORMATION
Full name: Liam Thorne
Gender: Male
D.O.B: November 13th
Age: 17
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 193 lbs
Race: Human
Sexuality: Bisexual
Nationality: Aedolian
Residence: ATC, Aedolis
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
Liam is built like a brick wall. Tall, with broad shoulders and an abdomen that only slightly tapers at the waist, leading down to solid legs. The young man is encased in lean cords of muscles thanks to his rigid training regimen. He’s got a strong jaw and angular features. Black hair is kept neat in a short cut, and deep green eyes are as cold as the glittering emerald gems they resemble.
PERSONALITY
Cold, abrasive, calculating, and manipulative – Liam knows what he wants and lets nothing get in his way to getting it. Some people think they’re better than you but he knows he’s better than you. It isn’t even a contest with his superior breeding, intellect, and training. He is a perfect soldier, in that he will obey orders without question or hesitation.
PSIONICS
Telepathy: Fairly average, nothing of undue note to be made.
Empathy: Almost exclusively skilled in reading the emotions of others in order to manipulate them in more mundane, non-psychic ways.
Fatal Impulse: The only currently known possessor of this hyper-specialized form of empathetic ability, Liam simply need make eye contact with a victim and he can trigger an irresistible urge to end one’s own life. So far there is a 100% fatality rate when this ability is activated and once triggered it cannot be stopped. The victim will take their life as quickly as they can by whatever means is easiest to acquire, whether that be a gunshot, a sharp object to sever arteries, or leaping from a great height.
RELATIONSHIPS
Meredith Rollins-Thorne: Mother, they have a cold and distant relationship.
Conrad Thorne: Father, they have a cold and distant relationship.
Megan Thorne: Sister, 13, and a Gracie. They have a cold and distant relationship.
Jasmine Harte:Fiancee, they have known each other since childhood and have been betrothed just as long. Upon both of their completion from Candidacy they are to marry, as per the arrangement made by their families.
BACKSTORY
Born in Havina to an extremely wealthy and elite family, Liam is next in line of a very long lineage of Pilots. He has been raised with, frankly, insane expectations, and so far he surpasses them all. His only ambition is to rise as high in rank as he can, serve Aedolis, and bring further prestige to his family name.
46
« on: November 06, 2018, 11:34:36 am »
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
It was a soft, staccato rhythm as the pen made contact with a tablet over and over again. The only other sound was the low thrumming of the ventilation fans and quiet breathing of the small group of Pilots seated at the stark table, all staring intently into the adjacent room through a large one-way mirror. Only a handful of them were privy to what was about to happen in that room. There was the Head of Candidate Affairs, Head of Covert Ops, the Pilot Imperial (via a report), the Candidate in question, and then there was him.
Alec was not really someone important enough to have this kind of clearance, but he was entrusted with the evaluation of each Candidate’s mental stability. He had worked with Candidate Thorne from the beginning. It was too late to hide the information from him. The Pilot Noble, mere counselor to the Candidates, was already aware of what this boy could do.
Someone coughed softly, then shifted in their chair, drawing Alec’s attention back to the window. A tall, broad young man in a Candidate uniform had been brought into the observation room. He looked right at them through the glass, even though they knew the boy couldn’t see them Alec thought more than one of them shifted uncomfortably in their seat. It was hard to blame them. What they were about to witness was sure to be unpleasant. Everyone knew what the Candidate could do, in theory, but they didn’t actually know what to really expect.
Alec stood and made his way into the room for the demonstration. Folding his hands neatly behind his back and giving a faint nod to Liam Thorne.
A side door opened within the observation room and two handcuffed men were dragged inside with black bags over their heads. The Pilots that brought the prisoners pulled the velvet sacks to reveal very terrified faces. He didn’t blame them either. They didn’t know what the Candidate could do, but there was no doubt they knew that this was the day they would die.
An intercom allowed the observers to hear what happened on the other side of the glass. The men that brought the prisoners were dismissed with a subtle hand gesture. He waited until they had gone before speaking.
“Candidate Thorne, you will demonstrate your unique psionic ability by executing one of these men.” One of the men, it really didn’t matter which. Alec handed Thorne a pistol. Both prisoners bowed their heads and began praying, their eyes squeezed shut. Thorne took the weapon and knelt down in front of the closest man.
“Look at me.” Came the smooth, almost soothing command. The man raised his eyes, locking them with Thorne’s for a second. Alec watched with morbid fascination as the condemned man’s eyes glazed over. The Candidate handed the prisoner the pistol with a smile. The man smiled back at his own executioner, completely oblivious to the fact that he was already dead. “It’s going to be alright.”
“Yes.” The response was faint as the man’s fingers shakily gripped the weapon, his smile split into a grin as he brought the gun up under his chin and pulled the trigger without hesitation, spraying the wall behind him with brains and blood. The second man broke down into hysterics, struggling against his bonds.
Alec glanced at the second prisoner and handed Thorne a second side-arm. “Kill that one yourself.”
The boy took the guy and a second shot rang out a second later, bits of the second man’s brains joining the first’s gory mess. Alec didn’t watch that, his eyes were trained on the Candidate’s face, an emotionless mask stared back at him.
“You didn’t ask why you were told to kill either of those men.” Alec observed casually. Of course he expected the answer.
“You gave me an order. I needed no other reason to kill them. Was there anything else you required of me?” What a good little solider. Terrifying. But good.
“I just had a question. How do you sleep at night?” It wasn’t a judgmental question, Alec simply wanted to evaluate the young man’s mental state insofar as it affected his sleeping patterns.
“Soundly, Sir. May I be dismissed?” Remorseless.
“Yes, that’s all for now, Candidate.” Alec waited until Thorne had left before shivering faintly and turning to stare at the observation window, wishing that he could see the faces behind it.
47
« on: October 07, 2018, 07:30:38 am »
So not his neighbor? Clay was momentarily confused why she was there if she lived a few floors away. Maybe she was part of some building welcoming committee? She certainly seemed to be trying to peek inside his apartment. There wasn’t much to see, but he didn’t know what to do or say. At least until she started talking again. Someone had told her he was moving in today. Things started clicking together and then she held out her hand and introduced herself formally.
“Oh! I had no idea you knew who I was.” They hadn’t told him anything about her, but he figure they were just waiting until he got here. He reached out to grasp her hand firmly, giving a steady shake before letting go. “I’m Clayton Darcy, but please just call me Clay. I wasn’t expecting you, they didn’t tell me anything. I didn’t even know your name, just that I had a combat mage partner waiting for me.”
Clay realized that they were just standing there, with Clair in the hall and him kind of blocking the doorway. Should he invite her in? That seemed like the polite thing to do. They were going to be partners, after all.
“Um, would you like to come in?” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side, making plenty of room for her to get by. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way to offer you for refreshments. There’s tap water and a few glasses, but I really haven’t had time to do any grocery or housewares shopping yet. I was planning on putting that all off until tomorrow. It’s been a day with all the driving and carrying boxes from the truck up here.”
48
« on: October 07, 2018, 06:58:47 am »
Oh dear, that was a rough start, wasn’t it? Not that Maddy took much into consideration beyond raw attraction. At least he usually didn’t, but normal people looked for things they had in common with people they wanted to get to know better. Halvard clearly had no use for horror movies, which was one of the few things he actually did outside work and partying. His eyes raked over the handsome fellow across the table and he already figured the man wasn’t much of a clubber.
“Well the cuddling is definitely a bonus.” Maddy felt a small bit of self-consciousness at the question. Still, he was determined to be honest. He didn’t want to put on some act in a desperate attempt to gain the attention of this one. That never worked out well in the end. “I really do like them, though. I watch them alone a lot. Maybe the mind melting appeals to me. They get super campy and predictable, but that just means I can shut off everything else. Also the characters make me feel smart, and that’s a precious commodity most days.”
Wasn’t that the truth? It was a rare occasion where he felt smart about anything. Even now, sitting there at AHOW on a date with this hunk of a man, Maddy couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he thought he was doing. Halvard seemed so straight-laced. What did a guy like that want with someone like him?
“But what about you? If you’re not into movies what does the big, handsome stud like to do when he’s not drinking coffee alone?” He really wanted to know.
49
« on: September 26, 2018, 09:21:00 am »
Whatever else you wanted to call it, it was strange. Bransen had never heard of a condition anything like what Dekval described. It was something wholly unique to the young Pilot, and not in a good way, that was for sure. Then again, what Pilot wasn't screwed up somehow from their years at the ATC and having a dragon in their head? He reaffirmed his early position on the matter - if it was truly crippling they wouldn't have put the kid on a squad.
"None of us are ever really in a position to do whatever we want when we want." Sure, they had some semblance of wild freedom, you just had to take one look at the chat to see there was a penchant for doing crazy, random, stupid shit all day and night. It was an illusion. There were limits.
"You'd be doing whatever the dragons told you to do. Just like the rest of us." Bran shook his head to clear it, dark brown eyes watching the smoke trail off the end of his cigarette for a moment. They could all have preferences on what job they'd like, and what dome, but in the end it was whatever dragon that picked them that decided. That was just how it was. He had gone into combat operations for years and years, it had been what he had wanted, but it only happened because his dragon had said so.
Now he was an Inquisitor, because his dragon thought his skills could be useful in that position.
At least the arrival of the food broke his train of thought. He could get lost on an internal tangent easily if he wasn't careful. His stupid constantly churning mind. A gift and a curse, all rolled into one. Dekval's inviting gesture got him to put his cigarette out and pick up his chop sticks. He had almost forgotten he was starving. Having someone to talk to was good for making him forget things, for a few minutes, anyway. It was always still there, somewhere in the back of his brain, but at least he could ignore everything else when he had something to focus on.
Skipping the soy sauce, Bran picked up one of those weird pieces with the mango, and popped it into his mouth. The taste was a bit of a shock. He had figured it would taste weird, and it did, but not really in a bad way.
"Hey, that's not half bad." He said after swallowing. The question made him tilt his head thoughtfully for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't want to share anything about himself with Dekval, the kid had been pretty forthcoming about his own weird quirk. "Yeah, I guess I do have one or two quirks. I don't forget anything. Ever. Eidetic memory. It is useful sometimes, most of the time it just sucks."
50
« on: August 27, 2018, 06:01:33 pm »
Scrolling through his phone was turning up an almost overwhelming number of options, not only in different types of take out, but for each one there seemed to be several options. It wasn’t like this was abnormal for a megacity. Clay probably would have thought there were a staggering amount of options in his home city if he were looking up places to eat there for the first time. The difference was back home he didn’t have to look any up because he already knew his favorite places to eat out.
Defaulting to pizza seemed like a safe option, and he could have cold leftovers for breakfast before heading out to do actual grocery shopping. At least with pizza he recognized some big chains that had been in business back home too. Thinking of home just made him a little homesick. Maybe he should call his parents, let them know he made it safe and was getting all settled in fine.
Clay made a soft sound of annoyance and tossed his phone on the coffee table. He was being stupid. There was no reason to miss home. The government provided him with everything he could possibly need. Moving had been his idea and he’d jumped at the offer to transfer. This was the best opportunity he was going to get and here he was barely in Tynova and already missing home. The city was beautiful and the most advanced cultural center on Edanith. Getting to live here with everything provided and paid by the country was an enormous honor and privilege.
The Mordecai just needed to make some friends. That would fix everything. Clay wouldn’t be homesick once he had a new social circle to fill the void of his family and friends being so far away.
It was about that time, in his rambling thoughts that someone knocked on his door, causing him to jump a bit. Who could that be? He didn’t know anybody yet and wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe a neighbor saw him moving in and wanted to say hi? That seemed pretty plausible. It might have also been someone from the department coming to check up on how he was getting settled in.
Clay got up and opened the door somewhat cautiously. It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. The first thing his eyes were drawn to was the mandatory mage band that would have been plugged into the woman’s ports. After that his eyes swept over her curiously. She didn’t look much like she was actually of Edani heritage, but she was clearly a mage and that was all that really mattered. It still wasn’t what he expected, but of course his neighbor might be a mage. It was common practice to house them together, after all.
“Oh, hello. Are you my new neighbor?” Clay didn’t know that his new partner already knew when he was arriving and where he would be staying. They hadn’t told him about her at all except that he had a mage with fairly strong and dangerous magic he’d be working with.
51
« on: August 21, 2018, 12:52:09 pm »
“Occasionally, yeah.” Insomnia and sleep issues were no strangers to the veteran combat operative.
Bransen leaned in as Dekval began speaking, putting his elbows on the table and listening intently as the young Raven began to explain his strange sleeping issue. It didn’t sound quite like any insomnia that he’d ever heard about or experienced, and he knew a thing or two about sleep issues. A mind like his could be hard to just turn off and get to go to sleep like you wanted. There was just too much lurking and bouncing around in his skull for that.
Whatever happened to Dekval sounded different, and it wasn’t explained at great detail or super well, but it probably wasn’t easy to really express it clearly. Also they barely knew each other and the young man didn’t have to tell him anything at all.
“Thirty-six hours, huh? That’s a pretty harsh stint.” Bran took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he watched the smoke drift away from the table idly for a moment. “More worried about that whole useless for twelve hours thing. That can’t be good or easy for anyone, but I’m sure it’s not so bad if they let you work on a team squad like the Ravens.”
He doubted he would ever see what Dekval was talking about. They didn’t exactly work together or spend time in each other’s company – aside from this spontaneous dinner. That could change, though; he didn’t know anybody in Ryun yet. Just because Bran had never actually talked to the younger Pilot in person before today didn’t mean they couldn’t talk like this again. It was hard to break the habit of keeping to himself, but it was definitely one that needed broken. New city, new position, new start and that meant actually trying to make friends and have a tiny semblance of a life outside missions.
Bran had a desk job now; missions weren’t really a thing anymore. He didn’t have to worry about moving domes every few months.
“So do you not have a clue what triggers these states? Might help manage them if you could avoid things that cause you to go into them.” Not that it was any of his business, but it was an interesting enough topic and Bran wasn’t that great at coming up with casual conversation.
52
« on: August 20, 2018, 09:00:34 pm »
A note and case were left on the counter for Eit.
Big Blue Bastard,
The last few days have been weird.
Although weird really doesn’t even begin to cover it – it is probably closer to absolutely fucking insane.
I went to the hospital prepared to die, and nobody really questioned that self-assessment. I was in pain, had wasted away to a shadow of my former self. When I fell asleep I had been so sure that I’d never wake up again. At least my last sight would have been you hovering by my bedside. I just wish you hadn’t looked so devastated.
Obviously death didn’t happened.
It really, really didn’t happened.
In a very big, weird way.
Who goes to sleep about to die and wakes up a vampire? I sure as hell hadn’t expected that to happen, and I still don’t know why it did. The one guy, the doctor dude, had tried to talk to me after I had calmed down and gotten control of myself, but I hadn’t been keen to listen to a lecture when I didn’t know where you were or how you were doing.
You know what else I really wasn’t expecting? For you to up and maul me with your mouth when you woke up from the sedatives they gave you. That was maybe even weirder and more confusing than the vampire thing.
I wonder what that says about me?
When we met years ago I liked you almost immediately. A dark sense of humor and into weird things – what wasn’t to like? We both liked annoying each other, and until I got sick we always got along pretty great. Sure there were spats, insults, and ribbing, but that was just us.
Getting sick changed things; it made things strained, stressful, and serious.
Neither of us has really been ourselves, and now I feel tangled up in knots almost as bad as when I was dying. I can recall the moment that you woke up and practically attacked me with startling clarity. I can still sense my heart skipping, still feel your lips on mine, the warmth of your body as we were pressed together. I can still taste you for fuck’s sake.
Of course we broke down into fighting almost immediately after that. We always end up bickering. Half the time I truly don’t understand how or why, it just always seems to happen. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
You kissed me, but was it just a reaction to the situation? Because you thought I had died? Was it just a moment of bad judgement?
I know you have a resonance, which I know is sort of like a soulmate, and that just makes everything way more complicated. I know there is an amazingly high chance that the kiss meant absolutely nothing. What are the odds that out of all the people in the infinite universe that I was meant for someone like you?
I honestly don’t deserve you.
Of course that doesn’t stop me from wanting you. After watching my mother die I had convinced myself that I didn’t need or want anybody ever. Love is fickle and cruel, often causing immeasurable pain and I hadn’t thought the benefits could outweigh that. I loved my parents, and they both died, leaving me alone and with enough emotional pain to last a lifetime.
I really hadn’t counted on you though. I hadn’t taken into account that you couldn’t just choose not to love and care for someone else. It snuck up on me. I hadn’t even realized it was happening. One moment my super confidence that love was for suckers was there and the next I was looking at you and realizing that I didn’t know what I would do without you. I cared more about you than I did me. I wasn’t as afraid of dying as I was of leaving you behind. I didn’t want to cause you that kind of pain.
I don’t know much about love, but I do know that I don’t want to ever leave you. I would never claim to be an expert on the subject, but if that isn’t love than I really don’t know what love is. If it isn’t, then is it at least good enough?
Your stupid dipshit,
Deacon
P.S. Yes it is real and it is mine.
There was a simple black jewelry case sitting on the counter beneath the note that held a necklace that was a vial on a chain. A crimson liquid, presumably blood, was in the vial.
53
« on: August 02, 2018, 05:13:04 pm »
Was he blushing? Yes, Halvard was definitely blushing. There was something extra adorable about a man that big and grizzled blushing, no matter how lightly. Maddy felt his smile growing even bigger as he was told he looked nice, and it was his turn to have his face flushing lightly. He must have done better than he feared at picking out his clothes.
“Oh I wouldn’t have missed this, and coffee is the nectar of the Gods and always alright.” It was early and while he was getting by on excitement alone for the moment, Maddy hadn’t had any coffee yet and would undoubtedly regret it if he didn’t fuel up on some caffeine soon.
Halvard looked so nervous, but he was so cute. Of course there was no speaking for his choice in fashion, flannel on a date? Well flannel anytime, but it was something he supposed he could live with. There was no such thing as perfect, after all. His handsome face and hot body more than made up for a bit of ugly shirt wearing.
Reaching for the empty coffee mug set out for him, Maddy fixed him a cup of java with furtive glances at his date. They were both clearly nervous. Luckily he had time to prepare for needing to break some ice.
“Have you seen the new Summoning movie? I think they’re on four now. I love scary movies, horror is my favorite genre. I love watching a scary movie in the dark, especially if there’s a handsome man I can bury my face against when it gets to a really scary part.” Maddy scrunched his shoulders slightly, letting heat rise in his cheeks as he flashed a sheepish grin before sipping his coffee.
54
« on: August 01, 2018, 07:13:25 pm »
The drive to Tynova was the longest trip of the young Mordecai’s life, and not just because it was a several hour journey. Honestly Clay didn’t mind the drive. There was something kind of relaxing about cruising down the major roadways between his birth city and the capitol city, radio pouring out the current supposedly hip music. Hours of nothing but background music and driving did let him stew, and that was what made it a long trip.
Two years of what he thought was serious dating and she just dumped him with a text message because he was transferred to another city. It wasn’t even so much that they broke up as that she couldn’t even do it to his face, and that she decided to do it the morning of his move. She had known for weeks, and had never hinted that she wasn’t okay with it.
Clay had hoped to ask her to move to Tynova with him once he got settled in. He had wanted to propose to her within the next year. All his careful future planning flushed down the drain with a single, cold text. She had even blocked him afterwards so he couldn’t ask if they could try to make it work somehow.
With the help of the GPS he pulled into the parking garage of the government housing complex. A lot of mages and Mordecai were issued condos here, and they had given him one when he accepted the transfer. That was the only happy thought as he got out of his truck. He had worked with several mages, just practicing teamwork with them, but none had been assigned to him. Clay wouldn’t be a fill-in here; he’d actually have a mage partner or two that worked almost exclusively with him. It was exciting, what he had been working towards for years.
His future work partners might even live in the same building. It was actually probable. Clay couldn’t wait to meet them. First he had to move in, though. Luckily he had packed pretty light, there were only a handful of boxes and suitcases for him to move from the truck to the new place. They told him it was already furnished, so that made it even easier.
Several trips in the elevator later, Clay was in his new living room, unpacking the few things he’d brought – basic kitchenware and utensils, the clothing got folded and put in their drawers or hung up, a couple pictures of his family went on the wall, and a framed photo of Hannah went into the trash.
He had packed before that text.
All-in-all it looked painfully like a bachelor pad. Bare-bones on any kind of décor or personalization, but Clay could work on making it more home-like as he went. At least the government provided them with fairly nice little apartments.
It was early evening and he already felt worn out as he plopped down on his new couch. Dinner was going to be a problem, obviously he had absolutely no groceries and going to the store sounded exhausting. He could look up take-out places nearby that delivered. That would really drive home the bachelor status. It still felt weird thinking about it.
At least he didn’t have to worry about work until Monday. It was Friday, so he had a whole weekend to pull himself together and stop moping about his now ex-girlfriend. New city meant a completely fresh start now. No girlfriend just meant he could focus on his career for a bit.
Silver linings.
55
« on: July 27, 2018, 10:57:17 am »
Templar
Templar had not spent much time in hospitals, but he could safely say he disliked the experience immensely. Not because being around sickness or death bothered him, not at all, but the sounds were simply unbearable. How did everyone else stand it? All the beeping and humming and whirling of medical equipment were going to drive him insane. Well, more insane than usual, at any rate. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the heart monitor or the respirator. Both infernal machines were currently assaulting his ears with their noise pollution.
The vampire had been hovering there in the shadows for hours, watching and waiting for an opportunity. He didn’t want to be there and loathed his task, but it was not in him to blatantly disobey a divine order. His job could have been done by now if the tall blue creature keeping vigil by Deacon’s bedside were to just go away. The elf had made things particularly annoying since Templar had arrived. Killing him had crossed his mind many times. He would have been happy to simply kill them both. It wasn’t as if the pathetic thing dying in the hospital bed actually deserved the blessing of Azrael. Sadly the wretch had been ordered to live, and it was his job to make sure it was so. Since the mage was to be fully integrated into the family, if the elf was really his great-something-nephew’s Consort, then harming him was blasphemous.
It really was a pity. He looked tasty and he did so love trying exotic cuisine.
Templar really hated having things deemed off limits, but he had to focus on the task at hand. It seemed an eternity before the blasted pointy-eared bastard nodded off to sleep. He had no idea how long that would last, or how deeply Eit might sleep, so he wasted no time in pouncing. The shadows deepened and swept across the room, engulfing Deacon and then retreating as quickly as they had advanced, causing the ill Duo to simply vanish, and Templar – who had been an unseen shadow to begin with – with him.
The machines once monitoring and maintaining the dying human’s life began screeching in protest, but he no longer had to hear it or care. It actually amused him to think of the panic that would cause, not only for scurrying hospital staff, but for that annoying blue asshole that made his life difficult without even knowing it.
Sadly he couldn’t revel in the chaos he had just caused, everything had to move quickly now. The pair reappeared in a much less sterile room; it was warm and prepared for their failing guest. Deacon was dumped on a nicer bed designed for in-home hospice care, and a blonde man with bright red eyes was immediately at his side, covering his nose and mouth with a respiration mask as the mage gasped and struggled for breath. Templar just smirked and shrugged at the glare thrown at him by the good doctor. They had been arguing for weeks, months even, over this very moment. Hector thought he was waiting far too long and that the risk of losing the boy was too high – higher by the day.
What an annoying nag. Honestly he could have taken care of this many months ago, but the longer he waited the less chance Deacon would ever wake up. Templar liked his odds. If he tried to turn him and he did not survive the change, then how was it his fault the human was too weak? It would prove his point and rid him of what he considered a disgraceful nuisance.
The sound of a heart monitor made him hunch his shoulders, it was almost worse than nails on a chalkboard by this point. He turned and scowled as he watched Hector work, hooking Deacon up to those infernal machines – what a joke!
“If he can’t live for ten minutes without help then why should he be allowed to live at all?” It seemed a more than valid question to him.
“He wouldn’t need help if you had simply done as you were told. The Incarnation is going to kill me if this one dies, and you toy with him like a cat that’s caught a mouse. This is not a hospital; please just do your damn job before he expires.” Hector was pretty, especially when he was angry. Templar almost wished he was one of his pets.
“Let my grandfather tear you to pieces for your incompetence, you act like I should care.” With an annoyed sigh he waved the man away and approached the bed, nose crinkling in distaste. The mage stank of disease and death – hardly appetizing. Well, the sooner this was over the sooner he could leave this wretched space station and go home where he belonged. Gripping Deacon’s chin not at all gently, he jerked his head to the side and sank his teeth into the weak, fluttering pulse. For the first time in hours, the human actually showed signs of life beyond the labored breathing, putting up a laughable struggle for a few moments before going limp again.
“All that poison medicine makes the blood taste foul.” Templar stepped back with a sound and look of disgust.
“Well if you had done this when you were supposed to you wouldn’t have had to worry about it, would you?” Hector sneered, a look of satisfaction crossing his face for just a moment. Clearly he enjoyed Templar’s displeasure in the situation. He glanced at the monitors, there had been a momentary spike in heart rate, but now the pulse had slowed, and it would continue to do so – or it would crash completely. All that could be done now was to wait and hope that things went as intended.
And wait they did.
For hours.
“How long does this fucking take? I’ve been waiting forever. When does he wake up?” Templar was pacing the room, casting accusatory glances between Deacon and Hector, as if the pair was somehow conspiring just to annoy him.
“Well how long can vary. You let him deteriorate for months, letting his sickness fester. There is a lot of damage to repair. It isn’t an instantaneous process, you know. His body is literally changing into a different species; try to show a little patience.” Honestly Hector was starting to grow nervous himself, what if there was just too much damage to recover from? Azrael really would kill him if Deacon died. He had unhooked the respirator an hour ago, the Duo was breathing on his own fine now, which had to be a good sign, right? His heart rate and body temperature had dropped significantly, into normal ranges for their kind, but he was still unconscious.
Templar made a noise of frustration and stalked over to the bed, leaning over it and scowling at his descendant expectantly. His patience was wearing paper thin. He couldn’t leave until Deacon was awake and eating properly. After that his responsibility to him ended and it would be Hector’s problem entirely.
Deacon
Things were so fuzzy, but Deacon knew that he was dying. It was probably the only thing he knew for sure. Everything else was kind of a hazy dream. All that mattered was that his partner was there. No matter what else, he could accept it as long as Eit didn’t leave him alone. There were so many things he wanted to say to him, but honestly he wasn’t sure if any of the words ever did come out. He wanted to tell him how sorry he was – sorry for years of being an insufferable shit, for not telling him how he felt, for having to leave him now.
Did he get to say any of it?
Deacon didn’t know. All he knew was that he was exhausted and that everything hurt so much. At least he thought it had hurt, but then the world just shifted and suddenly Eit wasn’t there and he couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned for several moments, but then a familiar pressure covered his face and air was forced back into him. It was a relief, but only temporary, because despite being unable to open his eyes, he knew that his jockey was gone. He struggled to wake up, to resist the strange hand that grabbed him, and then he thought he felt something else, but he was too tired to know what and he drifted back into the weird here but gone haze.
The next thing he consciously became aware of was the sound of strange voices. He wished they would shut up; he was tired and trying to sleep. Wait, they were talking about him? Deacon had no idea what they were going on about, but the next thing he realized was that he was desperately thirsty. Or was he hungry? Probably both, how long had he been lying in a hospital bed even? If they were chattering about him in his room they were probably doctors or nurses? Either way they should be able to get him something.
As his eyes cracked open, he knew two things: the room was very dim, which he liked, and secondly, there was a man hovering over him that he didn’t quite recognize. Whoever it was, their face was turned away and Deacon’s eyes dilated as he stared at the neck in front of him. There was absolutely no decision-making process going on here, one moment he was lying there, and the next his fingers were tangled in dark hair, fangs sinking into a cool throat. The second the first drop of blood hit his tongue, there was no thinking, pure instinct had him not simply bite and drink, he ripped into the flesh, tearing and gouging until blood was pouring down his chin in a gushing fountain of sweetness.
The man in his grasp had grabbed ahold of the safety rail and though he thought he’d made a startled yell, he only just began to struggle. Deacon was pretty sure he ripped his throat even more as his victim jerked out of his grasp and fell backwards onto the floor. He watched, almost entranced as Templar, hey that was his name, threw a hand to his destroyed throat, comically trying to stop the blood flow.
“I forgot what messy eaters newborns could be.” Templar was cackling madly, in a way that made the hair on Deacon’s neck stand up. Shouldn’t he be dead?
That was about the moment that thinking caught back up with him. Deacon realized that he was licking and sucking on his blood soaked fingers and jerked his hands away from his mouth, looking down at himself. He was covered in a sizable amount of blood. How much had even made it in his mouth? He felt mildly horrified that he’d just been sucking down blood like it was sweet tea. No, it was better than that and he wanted more.
“What the fuck?” He asked no one in particular. The gears were turning slowly, he wasn’t completely stupid, he just didn’t believe it.
“Please try to remain calm, Mr. Chambers. I’m Dr. Hector Wilde, and you will be in my medical care from now on.” The blonde man approached him, ignoring the other blood-covered man in the room, who had gotten shakily to his feet and moved to sit in one of the chairs. This room looked like a crime scene. Deacon hissed softly as a bright light was suddenly flashing in first one eye and then the other. “Light sensitivity is common and to be expected. Your eyes will readjust shortly and your vitals are good.”
“Well that’s nice, but what the actual fuck?” He was struggling to keep a bit of hysteria out of his voice. Somebody needed to start explaining shit right now.
“You’re a vampire. I thought that should be obvious. You’ve got a hell of a bite, too.” Templar chortled, still pressing a hand to his wounded neck, but it was healing. “Hector, hurry up. I’m hungry. I hope you brought enough for both of us.”
Hearing it out loud was a lot weirder than thinking it, but it also made it feel more real. Honestly he didn’t know what to think, but his attention definitely perked up at the word hungry. Hell yes, he was still starving. It was probably wrong to feel so happy at the thought of getting more blood, but he was giddy as fuck. He wanted it like a cokehead wanted crack.
“You weren’t supposed to get your throat ripped out.” Hector snorted, moving to a cooler and pulling out what looked like IV bags of blood. He threw one unceremoniously at Templar then brought one to Deacon with a scowl. “Don’t think overly hard about it, just eat. I know some humans are reluc-“
Reluctant he was not. Deacon brought the bag to his mouth and sunk his teeth in wordlessly; sucking on it as easily as a kid might have one of those weird Kool-Aid pouches. It wasn’t as sweet as Templar’s blood had been, but he slurped at it greedily just the same – it was still delicious and he had never been so hungry/thirst before in his life.
“Well I don’t think we have to worry about him eating…” Hector mused, scratching the back of his head with a smirk. “This is actually a synthetic formula. Libra is not a place where hunting for fresh blood is very easily done. The Mori Group is a family-run corporation that developed it specifically to feed vampires living in less hospitable locations, such as Libra. The formula is nutritionally equivalent to the real thing, but unfortunately they haven’t been able to completely perfect the flavor.”
“He means it tastes like shit.” Templar grumbled around a mouthful of plastic packaging.
Hector gave a long suffering sigh and fetched a second bag for Deacon. “It tastes fine, and you will be drinking a lot of it; especially for the first several weeks, because after that your hunger pangs will lessen slightly and you’ll require less to sustain yourself. You’re still in a period of transition. Don’t worry; I’ve already made arrangements for a steady supply to be delivered to your home.”
Deacon was barely paying attention to either of them. He was too busy reflecting inwardly. The blood, formula, whatever in his mouth tasted great, but the mage was just becoming aware of how he felt. There was no more pain, he didn’t ache or feel worn down, he felt almost hyper, energetic, truly alive for the first time in what felt like ages. He noticed other things too, like how he was still breathing between swallows, his heart was beating, but it felt sluggish. Was he alive or undead? He didn’t know, it was weird, but an hour ago he’d though he was dying-dying, so who was he to complain?
Oh shit.
He dropped the bag he had just finished and looked around frantically. Where was his partner? He had been with him at the hospital. Deacon jumped out of bed, glaring at Hector and Templar both accusingly. “Where’s Eit?”
“I left him at the hospital. I couldn’t exactly bring him along, but I didn’t do anything to him. He was sleeping when I took you.” Templar still had blood smeared on his neck and on his clothes, but whatever damage Deacon had done seemed to be gone now. Too bad, he kind of wished he’d killed him. Not that he really knew why, but he kind of wanted the asshole to die.
“Well this has been great and all, but I got to go. Eit probably lost his shit.” Deacon started to feel around for his com in his pockets, but looked down and realized he was in one of those lame hospital gowns. Well that made sense. “God damn it. Where’s my com? I have to tell Eit I’m okay before he has a heart attack or something.”
“Uh…we don’t have it.” Hector shrugged helplessly. “It is probably with your partner. Don’t be so hasty, you’ve barely woken up. You’re going to crash soon. Let me call the hospital and find out if your Eit is still there. Templar, make yourself useful.”
Deacon rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. He couldn’t leave looking this way anyway, he couldn’t let Eit seem him covered in blood like this – the poor thing really would have a heart attack.
“My job’s done, so I’m leaving. That door there is the bathroom. You got a change of clothes ready on the sink. Good fucking luck.” Templar waved at Deacon with a bored look before being swallowed by shadows and disappearing.
The next half-hour was the most frustrating of Deacon’s life, at least that’s what it felt like. Hector was annoying, insisting on him drinking two more liters, wanting him to be showered and dressed – admittedly he felt far more like himself once he was clean and wearing his own clothes. It pissed him off a little to realize they actually were his clothes. One of those assholes had gone in his house, into his room, and stolen a change of clothes.
Dicks.
Finally he was able to return to the hospital. Apparently Eit had to be sedated when he had gone missing, and Deacon wasn’t sure just how pissed off he should be about it. On the one hand, he was still alive when he should probably be dead, and - while medicated against his will - Eit was also safe.
Slipping into the hospital room where Eit was currently sleeping, Deacon decided it didn’t matter for now. He could deal with it all later. The only thing he cared about was curled up on a hospital bed that really wasn’t long enough for him – goddamn blue giant. A soft smirk tugged at his lips as he gently brushed a stray strand of hair from the elf’s face. Even looking like he’d been through hell, Eit was fucking beautiful.
It was a hell of a fit, but Deacon squirmed his way into bed, only settling contently when he was completely wrapped around his jockey.
“I’m home.”
56
« on: July 14, 2018, 04:24:20 pm »
BASIC INFORMATION
Full name: Clayton Darcy
Aliases: Clay, Dodger (Online)
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Height: 5’10”
Race: Human
Occupation: Mordecai
Nationality: Edani
Residence: Tynova, Edanith
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
Of a decent height with broad shoulders and leanly defined muscles, Clay cuts a solid figure. He has an angular face and strong jawline. Light red-brown hair coupled with blue-grey eyes and fair skin paints a very Edani picture.
Clay prefers comfortable jeans, boots, and t-shirts. Blues and grays are his favorite colors.
PERSONALITY
As a Mordecai Clay takes his civic duty very seriously, people with his ability are vital to the continued prosperity and well-being of Edanith. He just tries not to take himself too seriously. Yes he fills a vital role in society, but he is just a man, much like any other – no better or worse than most.
Humility partnered with a laid-back attitude in regards to most things means Clay is not an exceptionally hard young man to get along with.
Clay is a little bit of a conservative and traditionalist at heart. He believes it is part of his (and everyone else’s) duty to find a suitable partner and settle down to raise a family. As a Mordecai it is even more important for him to do so, in the hopes of passing on his ability to his future children. Edanith always needs more Mordecai – and mages for that matter.
SKILLS
Mordecaism: Psychic ability that nullifies magic!
RELATIONSHIPS
Clay has parents, four siblings, and several nieces and nephews all alive and well in the smallest of the six megacities.
BACKSTORY
Born and raised in the smallest of the megacities, Clay had a relatively normal Edani upbringing. He went to school as any of his peers would. Of course the major difference was he was a Mordecai, a fact his family is very proud of, and as soon as he was old enough he went to begin his training to serve Edanith with his uncommon gift.
He met a pretty girl, Hannah, just a couple years younger than himself and they dated for two years. Clay was living an Edani dream life, until they asked if he would be interested in transferring to Tynova – and what an honor to be offered a position serving in the largest city!
Unfortunately Hannah was not interested in either a long-distance relationship or moving to Tynova, and so she dumped him unceremoniously via text the morning of his big move.
57
« on: July 12, 2018, 09:18:10 am »
“You know what they say about assuming shit, right?” When you assume you make an ass out of you and me, it was kind of a silly saying, but Bransen had dozens upon dozens of equally stupid little sayings, euphemisms, and turns of phrase stuck in his brain. Very occasionally they were actually worth remembering, but not that often. “I like trying things out before I pass judgment. Making your mind up with only second-hand observations and opinions is just asking for it.”
Maybe not catastrophic consequences or regrets when making a food choice, but other things could definitely be ruined by snap judgments.
They had lapsed into silence until Bran fished out a cigarette, but it hadn’t felt uncomfortable. It was nice when you could enjoy the company of another person without having to say a word. Sometimes conversation felt unnatural; sometimes the mood and moment just required quiet. He was particularly fond of silence.
Of course until he wasn’t. He cracked a smile at Dekval’s joking humor and lit the cigarette, inhaling a lungful of the tobacco and feeling the sweet, calming influence of nicotine. There were worse addictions, ones that were often encouraged. Bran leaned back in his chair, casting a faint smile as the waitress set down their glasses of water and watching his dinner companion place their order. It didn’t even feel like an interruption, if he was being honest.
“Oh yeah?” There was a questioning tilt to his voice, but he also didn’t seem to expect elaboration – it was none of his business if the other man didn’t want to share more about this uncontrollable habit.
58
« on: June 21, 2018, 08:55:00 am »
Whatever inner confusion, shock, or turmoil Dekval was going through, Bransen seemed to be quite the opposite. He was perfectly at ease as he sat across from the other Pilot. The atmosphere was nice out here on the patio, the open air was refreshing, the view was amazing, and the small empathetic buzz radiating off his dinner companion wasn’t enough to detract from his enjoyment of the moment. All-in-all it made for a decently pleasant combination to him.
“I’ll risk it,” Bran said with a soft chuckle, actually feeling a bit of genuine amusement at Dekval’s assessment of asking for his recommendation being dangerous. At least the man was confident about the food here. It boded well for the coming meal.
His dark eyes roamed over the menu as the other man spoke, finding the rolls and skimming over what was in each of them thoughtfully. Spicy rolls weren’t uncommon at all, and Bran had enjoyed others that were slightly different from these ones, so he thought they were definitely worth trying. The semi-sweet rolls with fruit in them sounded a bit stranger, although this wasn’t the first time he had seen similar kinds of sushi. He just hadn’t tried them before out of skepticism. If Dekval was recommending them though, then maybe they were worth giving a shot, benefit of the doubt and all that.
Folding his menu and setting it aside, Bran idly scratched at the stubble along his jaw – ugh, if it was getting itchy it might be time to shave again – as he contemplated what to order.
“Why don’t we get one of each and split them? If you say they’re that good then I think I’d like to try them. We can tackle four rolls between the two of us, don’t you think?” It seemed like a good idea to him. It was two rolls each once you put all of it together, and even if they didn’t eat it all here they could get a to-go bag for leftovers.
Not that Bran expected leftovers. He was going to walk off dinner on that private beach if they were allowed.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Bran pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter. He shook one out and had it in his mouth before pausing to look over his dinner companion thoughtfully. Normally he would just light up and smoke while waiting on the food, but he was usually alone. It would be rude to smoke if it bothered the other man at the table.
“Do you mind? I know some people don’t like it. Terrible habit, I know.” After a decade of it he couldn’t even smell it anymore hardly because he was so used to the scent of cigarettes.
59
« on: June 13, 2018, 06:51:39 pm »
Was that expression funny or weird? Honestly Bransen couldn’t decide. A nervous twitch touched the corner of his mouth as he tried not to think about it too long or hard. It seemed a bit odd that a man like Dekval would be so surprised at being invited to stay for dinner after they had walked here together. You would think a famous Raven would be used to people asking him to share meals with them, although he probably expected it more from over exuberant fans and not fellow Pilots.
Maybe inviting him to stay wasn’t the right move?
A bit of tension eased out of him when the younger man agreed to share a table with him. It wasn’t like it would have hurt his feelings to eat alone, but he didn’t like making things awkward with people, even if it was something Bransen was apparently pretty good at.
“I would never, ma’am.” He murmured to the hostess when she asked that he not throw his trash over the railing. That would be an insanely dick move when they provided an ashtray and everything.
Bransen followed the hostess out to the patio, pausing when they reached their table and giving a low whistle as he looked over the view. Ryun had no shortage of beautiful beaches, the island dome was famous for the black sands, but this little cove was stunning. It was also blessedly quiet compared to much of the crowded city. There was still the sound of throngs of people enjoying the dome, but it was much fainter here, he could hear the waves much more clearly.
Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he took his seat across from Dekval and picked up the menu, letting his eyes roam over it casually. He’d eaten plenty of sushi since moving to Ryun, and already had some idea of what he did or didn’t like, but each restaurant was a little different.
He looked up from his menu, brow furrowing slightly when Dekval did speak to him again. The Raven seemed a bit on the quiet side, which was fine with Bran, because he wasn’t exactly chatty either. Still, the question made him quirk a lop-sided smirk. “Oh I know I don’t, but if I minded paying then I wouldn’t have offered. It isn’t just about repaying you for showing me how to get here. I told you, eating with someone can be nicer than eating alone.”
Not always, but sometimes. Bransen ate alone a lot. Today, for whatever reason, he decided to ask Dekval to stay and eat with him. He still wasn’t sure if it had been the right or wrong decision, but the only way to find out was to follow through with it.
“So what do you recommend, anyway?” Bransen idly wiggled his menu, having already looked over it a little, but curious what the other man would suggest since he had eaten there before.
60
« on: May 27, 2018, 08:08:00 pm »
It was strange, Bran could have sworn the other man was nervous, but what reason would Dekval have to be anxious? Refraining from attempting to delve too far into what emotions were churning around in the other Pilot, he simply gave a bit of a nod and followed after him as he led the way – presumably to this really good sushi place. For all he knew the Raven could be about to take him in circles around Ryun for the fun of it.
Not that he thought he would, but he could.
When Bransen wandered the city alone he was left undisturbed for the most part. All Pilots were generally meant to be celebrities, but he wasn’t some cool squad boy. He was just another soldier among many, and now he was more like an investigator, so even less impressive to most. That was the way he preferred it. Fame wasn’t something he relished, so when Dekval was mobbed by fans he was happy to keep back and observe the way the younger man handled himself. Part of him felt bad for the kid, and part of him was just happy it wasn’t him they were fawning over.
At least watching him handle civilians was interesting. Dekval was clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but he was able to dodge and diffuse most of it with a good deal of grace. Bran on the other hand, simply gave an awkward, lopsided smile to the few people that did try to get his attention. They probably were only curious because he seemed to be with the younger and more famous Pilot at the moment.
It was a great relief as they moved away from crowded, touristy areas into less densely packed streets where it was easier to breathe. He let his eyes wander over the residential buildings and smaller specialty shops. Bran had never seen this neighborhood, but he hadn’t explored as much of the city as he probably should have by now. Could anyone really blame him for his long walks repeatedly dragging him along the piers? The beaches were beautiful and, when not full of screaming tourists, peaceful.
“I like walking.” Bransen shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans as they walked, people still waved at Dekval, but they weren’t swarming, which was a plus. He managed to nod politely at the ones that noticed him.
When they stepped back onto a main street, he took it in, memorizing landmarks at a glance so that he might easily find the place on his own next time, if he liked it enough to come back. The outside of the building was less than remarkable. It seemed like a very small and local-catering place, which immediately gave marks in its favor. Crowded restaurants full of loud conversations weren’t conductive to a nice meal, as far as Bran was concerned. For a Pilot used to combat missions all over Aedolis, he valued his peace quite highly.
“Looks quaint,” he commented as they stepped inside. The hostess at least got a smile as she approached him, but Bran let Dekval do the talking. He arched a brow when the boy said he was going to take his order to go.
“Patio sounds nice so make it a table for two please, and do you allow smoking out there?” Bran gave his guide a half smile. “Why don’t you stick around? Dinner’s on me. It is the least I can do for you showing me how to get here. Besides, eating dinner alone isn’t as good as in some company. Don’t you think?”
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