At home for the start of the xmas times / writeup āholidayā, and Iāve tidied up the second part of Diolain. Whoās ready for blood-magic meditech and consideration of whether your demon matches your beard?
Title: Scout and about
Setting: The State history: end- āGolden Ageā (about 40 years ago).
Warnings: Blood, vomiting (mentions)
Summary: The evening goes from awkward to Worse, at some speed.Ā Fortunately, there is an element to Samie that their hosts have overlooked.
Characters: SamĆŗiel Daly; Fergal Callaghan.
Words: 2900
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For such a joyless bunch of bastards, Samie would have to give these Stateys some grudging credit for making drink with impact. Ā The actual flavour of the wine hadnāt been anything to write home for ā especially to a fella used to Abhani soma, which tasted of smoke and ice and early death if you got the good stuff ā but hell, itād been a while since he had felt uncertainty in his knees after few glasses. Ā Possibly he shouldāve kept more of an eye on how much he was draining, but after heād made excuse to get away from Crawlish and his genetic twaddle, breaking into any of the other settled conversations provedā¦ tricky.
He clearly wasnāt the only one feeling the haze: he noticed a steady increase in the number of raised, slightly-slurred voices amidst the groups; more moments when the diplomatic masks slipped and jolts of real-feeling cut ugly across polite manoeuvrings. Ā There were changes in the movements of his fellows in suited-bulk as well, carefully positioning themselves closer to their increasingly flush-cheeked charges. Ā Wary, like.
There was an undertone building here, something metaphorically sour in the air that set Samieās hackles up. Ā Nothing concrete, nothing he could set his finger on, so he had to settle for shifting back and forth at the sidelines, trying to push aside the fuzzy edge to his thoughts.
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More history-fic, this time considering exactly why the State has such aā¦ poor relationship with the country of Abhain. Also because I havenāt done much from the PoV of a Gate yet, and I do like my Impending Body Horror ;)
Title: Part 1: Diplomacy, in the bag
Setting: The State history: end- āGolden Ageā (about 40 years ago).
Warnings: Discussion of eugenics.
Summary: Being ambassador to the State isnāt the easiest of tasks, and being bodyguard to that position isā¦ interesting. Samie is trying very, very hard not to be an Incident, even if it is starting to seem like even their hosts have different ideas.
Characters: SamĆŗiel Daly; Fergal Callaghan.
Words: 1145
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ā¦the hell kinda fucked up country calls itself āThe Stateā, anyways?
SamĆŗiel had never been much of a man for diplomatic parties. Ā Heād actually attended quite a few ā when he couldnāt avoid them ā but a bunch of suited-up fellas filtering international gossip through the buffet wasnāt his idea of an engaging evening. Ā Not that he had a lot of choice here, since he wasnāt about to leave his responsibilities on the high-and-dry.
A peal of brittle laughter rang out from one of the larger mingles nearby, drawing a little of the roomās wandering attention, and Samie took the opportunity to run a finger around his shirt collar for the dozenth time, grimacing slightly. Ā The palace tailor had tried her best, but even on only his base merits Samie was a big man, and he couldnāt shake the sensation he was being gently throttled by his own clothes. Ā Heād already spotted a few other figures around the crowd with similar expressions of constricted concentration, and had offered them companionably-weary glances. Ā There were some experiences that were probably universal for bodyguard-work.
Trying to get myself back into writing again. Little bit of seeing whatās going on in Cesarās head, about his āReally? Really, that guy?ā relationship with S_R, sort of mid-Smoke &Ashes.
Title: Still here.
Setting: Smoke & Ashes. (Offscreen / backstory)
Warnings: None. (Some references to sex / violence, but not in any great detail.)
Summary: S_R actually has a cute snore. Itās not the only private thing Cesar knows about him, nor the most unexpected.
Characters: Cesar Castell; S_R.
Words: 733
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The Captain was a very quiet sleeper, which wasnāt a surprise. Ā Cesar had had Ward lovers before, and while it had been some time since he had taken one of the underscored to his bed, he always remembered the silence of them. Ā Slim bodies held still, folded in on themselves as if to occupy as little space as possible ā or subconsciously not expecting there to be any more space to take up. Ā Breathing shallowed out with sleep, with the rest itself either deep as death or cobweb-fragile, liable to break into sharp, sudden wakefulness at the slightest disturbance. But always so quiet.
There were plenty of ways in which S_R was far from a typical Ward, but this wasnāt one of them. Ā It had taken some time before he had actually slept during any of their nights together ā preferring instead to work his way through Cesarās bookcase in defiance of drowsiness, or leave once the afterglow faded ā and the first time he did, Cesar almost hadnāt dared move once he realised the wiry body in his arms was relaxing. Ā Not simply gone molten under his ministrations, or collapsed limp in gasping aftermath, but actually relaxing. Ā Pushing back, slightly, into the warmth of Cesarās chest, as his breathing went soft.
After a mage tries to fly, backup is called to assess the damage
The large crash of glass shattering echoes through the open halls of the castle and all Nights can do is sigh and go back to work. It seems it happens at least once a week, so she has stopped bothering to go out and look. She simply goes back to the book she is reading as she lounges on one of the couches in the sitting room.
Several minutes pass without any further disturbances, as though nothing had happened. Then distantly, a voice calls out.
[BlueSky] Niiights!
It calls out again, louder, as though the source is getting closer very rapidly.
[BlueSky] Niiiiiiiiiiiiiights!
Nights groans as she closes her book with a soft thump and puts it down. She sits up and stretches before looking down from the platform sheās sitting on.
[Nights] Over here!
Blue dashes into the sitting room, sliding to a stop on the wooden floorboards, looking somewhat panicked with her ears pricked and fur ruffled.
[BlueSky] I think the newbie is broken!
Nights calmly makes her way from platform to platform, then down the stairs to where blue stands panicked.
[Nights] Raziel? What do you mean ābrokenā?
[BlueSky] Wellā¦ something went ācrackā and Iām pretty sure humans arenāt supposed to go ācrackā. I think.
Nights sort of looks both confused and concerned at the same time as she describes the ācrackā noise.
[Nights] Uhhhā¦. No. No, they should not make that noise. Where is he?
[BlueSky] After he ran into a wall we went to the forest. He then ran into a tree and didnāt seem to want to move much.
She starts to hop back towards to door, keen to get back to him.
[Nights] Why did he run into a tree?!
Nights briskly walks behind Blue, trying to keep up with her, all the while imagining every scenario in which someone would choose to run into a tree.
[BlueSky] I donāt think that was part of his plan. He was trying to slow down but doesnāt seem to have quite nailed how to land properly. I mean fairās fair, itās not the easiest thing to master.
They walk through the courtyard, Shattered glass litters the grass and roots. Nights looks up, seeing Raziel's window utterly shattered. There is no blood but there is bark missing from the large oak as they pass. They quickly walk out the large doors and make their way down the bridge over toward the sacred forest. There, in the distance, is Raziel, standing perfectly still with his hand on his back amongst the bright trees.
Blue bounds ahead to check how he is doing. She paces around him, ears back, still nervous about touching him.
Raziel grins awkwardly at the sudden return of Blue, he starts to walk slowly in circles, rubbing his back. The pain has reduced in amount but he still feels rigid from the impact against the tree. Upon spotting Nights he waves.
[Raziel] Morning Boss! Lovely weather this evening, donāt you agree?
[Nights] Blue said you were ā¦ uhmā¦ broken? *She shouts out before she starts to jog toward him, her coat jangling with all the things in it as she goes.*
[Raziel] Broken? Well Iām not sure about broken but I am... *He goes to approach Nights before grimacing in pain from attempting to move.* In a considerable amount of pain! *He continues to rub his back.* I may or may not have decided to do another magic experiment that made me pick a fight with gravity... and a treeā¦.
[Nights] Soā¦ it hurts to move but it only hurts in your back I hope? *She says in concern while she reaches into the inner pocket of her jacket to produce a shining flask with intricate carvings on it.*
[Raziel] Yeah that's right, I used a spell to try and reduce the damage, Ā but I guess I crashed a bit too hardā¦ Although if you think I look a state you should see the other guy *He points to the human shaped dent in a nearby tree, pieces of bark lay scattered about the landing zone with the giant cracks now going up the makeshift safety net*
*Nights mutters something about that sheād have to be in the accipiter to make that kind of dent, before opening the flask and offering it to Raziel. The liquid inside is dark and foul smelling, like a strong chemical thatās not been ventilated properly.*
*Blue backs away and pulls a face as the strong scent meets her sensitive nose.*
[Nights] Here, take a sip of this. Uhmā¦ only a sip though.
[Raziel] Huh, I always did wonder what you kept in that, I always assumed whiskey or something... *He politely takes the flask off Nights, taking a moment to smell the liquid inside* smells like JƤgerin...well, to your health Boss! *He takes a small swig of the flask's contents, coughing for a brief moment as his body reacts to the drink* Definitely not JƤgerin! I almost had deja vu of Danteās homemade rum... what actually is that?
[Nights] Give it a moment and you should be able to move back to the castle on your own. You just pulled a muscle, nothing major. *She says this ignoring his question rather quietly. She steps beside him and encourages him to stand up strait.*
[Raziel] Well thatās a relief, I think Iāve broken enough bones this year to say the least... *A very sudden wave of relief flows through Raziel as Nightās concoction starts taking effect*...aaand thatās way more powerful than I thought that stuff would be, power of science, never ceases to amaze me! *He laughs as he stretches his back, testing himself by bouncing up and down on the spot*
Nights cringes watching him, knowing when it wears off it will be all that much more sore.
[Nights] You should try not to stress it moreā¦ it is still injured, you just can not feel it. Come now, we should go, and you should lay down.
[Raziel] That! Is a fantastic idea...let us be off! *He giggles as he turns towards the castle, somewhat stumbling as he walks onwards, quickly turns around in confusion* Oh! Blue! You're here too?
[BlueSky] Hi. *She deflates as it seems all her worry was for no reason.*
Nights looks over in concern, she didn't think this batch had that much of a stimulant mixed in. Then she realized he didnāt listen and mutters a few curse words under her breath.
[Nights] For bolts sake, you took more than a sip! *She says scowling at him* Now I gotta watch youā¦. *she sighs rather annoyed.*
[Raziel] *He smiles sheepishly, raising his hands in a surrender like pose* Sorry Boss! I honestly thought it was something a lot weaker and that I could handle itā¦
[Nights] Well we better get back to the castle before you pass outā¦. I have half a mind to make you bring it back up.
[Raziel] No need, I should be able to survive the journey..Now...*He points towards the castle* Onwards!
[Nights] He is gonna crash soon. *She says while rolling her eyes and trudging behind him toward the open back gates.*
[BlueSky] Well, donāt they say third timeās a charm? *Blue responded, carefully watching Raz walk.*
They walk along the long bridge and up the flagstone path to the castle, Raziel seems to slowly lose energy as they walk up hill and Nights gently encourages him forward. The large castle flag flaps lethargically in the wind above as they enter the back gates. Nights turns Raziel in the right direction with a hand as she heads toward the West tower library. They step onto the levitator and move up toward the warm cozy library, the whole time with Blue anxiously following, not sure how she could help but wanting to be there if needed.
As they enter she climbs to one of the elevated platforms with a series of large leaps, and settles down to peer over the edge at the two. Many books line the shelves sitting on the floors and a fire forever goes in the corner in the fireplace. The couches sit against the windows and large lounge chairs sit around the coffee tables in front of the couches. Nights points to a couch and and orders Raziel to lay down as she empties a trash can in the corner, filled with random scrap paper, and places it next to the couch.
Raziel flops onto the nearby couch in the library, the warmth of the room not helping his now already drowsy state. He struggles to keep himself awake, starting to wish now that he had actually paid head to Nights advice and had less of the concoction.
[Raziel] *He sighs and yawns* From zero to one hundred in less than five minutes... that truly is an interesting medicine you have there Boss.
[Nights] It does not do that in proper dosages. *She says as she settles into a chair after picking out a random booking that interested her. She's taken off her jacket in the warm room, laying it Ā down in a pile next to her as she settles herself in the chair.*
[Raziel] Duly noted..*He rubs his eyes, propping himself up to have a proper look at the collection of books on the library shelves*...Hey Nights, on a different note, donāt suppose you have any books on flying do you? Magic or otherwise?
[Nights] Many. As well as many notebooks on the subject. Perhaps when you feel better I will show you. *She could feel the blue eyes staring at them, but didnāt look up.*
[Raziel] Damn, I was hoping to start now *He yawns again,sliding back down onto the sofa* But okay, sounds like a...plan...thanks againā¦
The concoction finally takes it toll and Raziel falls asleep, it's less than a minute before he starts snoring.
Nights snorts in disbelief as she crosses her legs and settles into her book.
After a while, Blue stands and silently heads to the aviary.
Jangles goes out to greet a newest addition to the settlementā¦ He isnāt entirely who Jangles believed him to be.
Starring: Bolframmon and Jangles
Warning: Slight use of threats
Not all of which he'd allowed, a few had taken their leave over it ā something he didn't particularly mind. No need to conform to rules they couldn't abide by nor would he put the comfort or safety of his own crew in jeopardy over a single entity.
As of that morning he'd put his mind to those who'd figured they could lose themselves into the crowd, dissolve without ever being known or simply those used to a different type of settlement. It didn't matter, he'd learn each individual by face, name and capabilities eventually and he would seek them out if they wouldn't come before him.
It's one such individual that had brought him before one of the tents. Jangles enters without much ceremony, the flap of fabric thrust to the side as he steps inside.
There is a lantern mere inches from his face that makes him recoil briefly, an unnatural greenish light twirls almost invisibly behind the foggy glass. One of his metal fingers taps against the crystal, the light flares. Deep-set eyes narrow before he ducks under it, continuing his way towards the counter.
There doesn't seem to be a salesman, either hidden behind wares, some other compartment of the tent or simply just out of his line of sight.
[Jangles] Y'surely got wares.
Bolframmon appears from out the corner of the tent, his gear and collection scattered about the place and certain spells and barriers have not been set up, bar the dangling lantern of an unusual flame you could be convinced it is just another tent. He is surprised to have a visitor so soon as he has not even put up a sign saying what this place is. He studies the man briefly, clearly seeing from his attire heās a Dreglander and must be one of the few running this new town. Either that or heās just a really nosey one who came to see what was about.
[Bolframmon] *he coughs to announce his presence before approaching* I do indeed have wares, sir! Although I must apologise for the state of the place, I was not expecting customer or company anytime soon.
The sound catches Jangles' attention, he turns from the multitude of odd looking wares over to the owner of the place. The Dreglander doesn't hide his brief inspection, his eyes flicking from head to toes and back. He cocks his head briefly, his brow raises just enough to light up his eyes by the reflection of the flame, they flick over to the rest of the tent, his mouth purses slightly making a 'not-bad'-expression.
[Jangles] Tidiness ain't a thing y'gotta fear with me about. Y'do yer business as y'see it.
He steps away from the counter, turning more towards Bolframmon, the glint of the lantern showing his shabby outfit consisting out of a sleeveless vest and a pair of slacks. They might be a desert-camo, though it's difficult to determine whether the plethora of stains is a design choice or the result of wear-and-tear.
[Jangles] It's Jangles, by the way. Ain't here for y'wares. Got nothin' missin' from m'life. Nothing that y'can find in a random tent anyway. Real reason I'm here's t'see if y'got anything missin' on yer own end. Is my job t'see everyone happy an' dandy an' fantastic. Ain't gonna have a sit down and a sob, tho. Just lookin' t'see if yer needin' a supply-a-power or water, really.
Bolfās faced changes to a surprised expression at Janglesā offer, he wasnāt too sure what to expect here but the offer of help certainly wasnāt on that list. He smiles as he extends his hand towards Jangles.
[Bolframmon] A pleasure to meet you Jangles, my name is Bolframmon. I appreciate the offer for power and water, but I will be quite fine, Iāve come prepared already. *He looks about his tent again.* Although once this mess is organised and the rest of the tent is set up, I think a drink might be desperately needed.
[Jangles] Basically Bolf then.
He eyes the hand that's inching towards him, he raises his corresponding hand, the metal glinting in the low light of a few lanterns. There is a hesitance in his action as he extends his, a split-second of doubt before he allows the other man to take it.
[Jangles] Ain't a scam that I'm runnin'. Won't mess with y'things and only askin' what's fair in 'xchange. But if y'got it down all's the better for it, 'suppose. Just lettin' y'know it's on the table. We've also got decent tradin' routes outside adda settlement so if yer needin' fer something specific y'can let me settle up arrangements.
A sly grin snakes onto his face as he hears Bolf, his body language becomes a bit more open, stiff muscles in a defensive posture slacking ever so slightly. A satisfied grin ending in a gentle chuckle.
[Jangles] Ain't that what anyone's needin'? We've got a nice diner 'round here somewhere. Good prices, great patron. Or else I'm sure y'can find someone willin' t'trade a decent bottle fer onna y'wares. Just outta curiosities sakeā¦ Whadda y'dealin' anyway?
[Bolframmon] A diner? Well, I could use a good meal too, Iāll go have a nose later. As to your other questionā¦
He steps away and gestures towards the various items scattered about, upon looking books of various sizes can be seen, necklaces and earrings are gently hanging of a stand, and some sort of weapon can also be seen sticking out of a barrel.
[Bolframmon] Without the long winded explanation, you can call me a merchant who specialises in magical wares. Relics, spellbooks, enchantments and potions etc. Basically if you need something magic based or need something removed, Iām your man.
Jangles' mouth twitches, like he'd just bitten down on a lemon or set his teeth into something rotten. His hand is quick to retreat to his body, fingers coiling back into his icy palm.
The curse dies off into a weak sigh. It's a weak lie, an attempt to save face if only for himself. He'd been suspicious of Bolf but for the same reason he is suspicious of anyone not from the Dreglanders. Anyone he couldn't pinpoint with one look.
His gaze goes over the tent and the wares on display again, as if he could see the corruption dripping off of it now, he couldn't. Boxes don't act suspicious when they're different. They might glow or groan but installing a few LEDs or throwing your voice could give you the same effects. Pretend magic was more common in the Dreglands, pretend magic was a niceness, an escapeā¦ Real magic was something people would escape from.
[Jangles] Cannai ask y'the keep this on the down-low? Ain't lookin' t'make a big deal outta thisā¦ But y'chose a peculiar place t'set up shop. Dreglanders ain't fonda things that ain'tā¦ regular. Gotta bad history. If y'gotta sell dancin' candles or self-readin' books don't put them out on the curb 't catch attention. We've gotta rule that keeps us happy: If it don't have t'magic it shouldn't. I don't givva shit what y'do behind these here curtains. I givva shit that my people ain't comfortable. Y'do yer business behind this here cloth and we're all happy an' dandy. That business bleeds out onto the streets and I end up comfortin' a sweet thing and explainin' that there ain't corruption nibbling at their home our bussiness-relations might end up a tad strained. I tend t'snap when I'm put under strainā¦
Bolframmon raises an eyebrow at the sudden reaction and request, was he afraid of magic? It had been a long time since Bolframmon had been in the west but he swears that they handled the realisation of the arcane better than this. But this man has been polite and he has no intention of causing any trouble yet.
[Bolframmon] *raises his hands in a mock surrender pose smiling at Jangles.* You have my word, sir. My business will only take place in this tent! Your people need not fear me and my wares and it will never get out... Unless you guys want a magic show? I still have the top hat and magic wand somewhereā¦
[Jangles] Good.
There is a timbre to his voice, a low growl akin to a threatened animal. A defence installed in him from a young age. Something feral that many of his countrymen share with him. His arms twitch, the loose bolts rattle against the metal rods. If he'd still have skin he would have goosebumps by now, how fortunate that metal has difficulties displaying the more minute details of interactions.
[Jangles] No need ferra sharp, condescending tongue. Things don't need 't get hostile neither. Just a word-a-warningā¦ real friendly-like. Things getā¦ uncomfortable when y've only gotta blade and y'know opposite you's a guy that can melt ya with the flick of his eyes. It's better not to let the general people think 'bout such things. Fear tends t'breed stupidityā¦ Ain't nobody served with stupidity.
A deadpan look, almost serious haunts Jangles' face for a brief moment, his eyes crawl up from a point of nowhere and back to Bolf. Upon seeing the man's face his familiar grin places itself on his face once more.
[Jangles] Don't mean drinks're off the tableā¦ Might just not let ya get 'm fer me.
At that final sentence Bolframmon does a mock gasp and puts his hand on his heart, but behind the act the gears turn in his mind as he puts together what kind of situation heās now in.
In short these folk arenāt the biggest fan of magic and sound prone to turn into an angry mob at a moments notice, for now heāll have to bite his tongue and play nice with the other children.
[Bolframmon] *still on mock gasp stance* Why Jangles! Weāve only met and yet your words hurt me so, *He grins and chuckles.* but your rules and advice are accepted and heard loud and clear, if anyone should ask about me just tell them I sell remedies and random antiques. Would that make you easier, my friend?
Bolframmon's words roll around in Janglesā head for a brief moment.
[Jangles] I can be a right bastard without even tryin', Bolf.
His grin stands fast on his face, faltering slightly as the topic switches.
[Jangles] Can live with that. I'm sure there's mora yer type skulkin' 'round. These typa places tend t' attract 'em. Y'can deal with 'em, no problem. Y'can sell old shit to Dreglanders if they're into it but if y'know it's magic and they don'tā¦ I'm gonna trust y'not to sell it t'them. I don't wanna stick my arm in another wasp nest knownin' 't can be avoided. Dreggies point 'emselves out. If I know of others like yerself I'll let 'em know yer a good one t'interact with.
There is a pause, Jangles fills it the only way he knows how; making odd noises with his arms or clearing his throat. He still feels the dread creep around him, what few and short hairs he has on the back of his neck stand upright.
[Jangles] Gonna wish ya good luck with yer wares thenā¦ Suppose I came to say what I hadtaā¦ If ya got more questions y'can find me at the general storeā¦ The little tent with the hairy elephant in front of it. Y'll find either me or Roan there. Roan always knows where I am.
[Bolframmon] *He bows politely* Thank you, Iāll be sure to keep that in mind, no doubt Iāll be around soon to invite you for a drink. *He starts to head back to the far corner of the tent before turning back and smiling at Jangles* And thank you for your warm welcome.
Jangles sets a foot back, his other is quick to follow.
[Jangles] I ain't goin' nowhere. I'll be seein' y'round.
He turns on his heels, arms clenched to his sides as he makes his way out of the tent which is quickly giving him a whole different feeling than the drab apathy of this morning. Perhaps a kindness that the man was as quick to tell him the truth, a cruel type of kindness which now has involved him in a game he hadn't anticipated when starting this settlement.
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After leaving R_V tied to a tree, the remaining MM (and reclamation AGRI team) reach the Silo. Ā They find more than they expected, in the form of an entrepreneurial figure with a rather unStately way of conducting himself.
Starring: C_K, S_R, Lennart.
Warnings: None
The landscape around ADEF-FAC is more visibly modified than the area around Fair-co. Ā Metal-specked concrete blisters jut out of the earth around the sullen dome of the main building, crowned with dead lamps and the angles of communication relays, all dark. Ā Patterns of abandoned fields are still visible, spread out around the more obvious buildings; fallow now, with scrub already rising into new woodland at the edges, where the once-rigid treeline is bleeding out across the old margins. Ā The actual structures stand firm but their edges are beginning to soften, worn down by the gradual entropy of wind and rain pitted against old engineering.
The more violent scars in the landscapeās recent history are also showing signs of succumbing to inevitability. Ā Impact craters and the mouldering remains of old testing rigs, crumpled outbuildings and broken crates, all wrapped in fresh tendrils of bellbind and colonising moss. Ā Weedy opportunists, but green and alive, in contrast to the slime-blacked mess of the rotten barley fields that ring the Silo. Ā Even the great, shock-sharp crater in front of the main door has yielded a little. Ā Some of the alien smoothness to the sides has given: split stones have dislodged, rolled to the bottom in small piles of scree amongst muddy pools; animal tracks and burrows trace new pathways into the earth, between patches of dandelions sprung up alongside the still-trickling streams, fed by the open mouths of severed pipes.
But it is not only nature that has been busy, in Motherās absence.
The ā unusual ā residents of the mouldering husk in the hillside have been gone for months now, and the last legitimate ones long before that. Ā Yet the building is no longer empty; the door standing forced-ajar, and there is the faint sound of distant music crackling in the air.
-
* The specific effects of time and neglect on the scene do little to catch S_Rās attention. Ā The damn place was a wreck when they left it, and itās more of a wreck now. Ā Big deal. Ā He has other things to focus on - and the idle chattering of the AGRI mob behind him isnāt helping. Ā They have come to the edge of the treeline, just north of the FAC, and there is only unsettlingly-open ground between them and the building now.
*He turns to the hulking idiots in tow, and snaps his fingers a few times to get their attention.
[S_R] Right. Ā We - *he jabs a sharp gesture towards C_K* - are going to scout this out. Ā You lot. Ā Stay. Ā Here. Ā ...what?
*He stops, irritated, as an AGRI near the front raises one callous-mangled hand cautiously.
[Sage] Yāmean, like right here, orā¦?
[S_R] I mean donāt fucking waltz off and get yourselves killed. Ā Stay in cover, donāt go attracting attention. Ā Pick flowers. Ā Scratch your ass. Ā I donāt care.
[S_R] Youāve got the radio. Ā Donāt move until you hear from us. Ā Clear?
*A mumbled chorus of āyesā follows, as the two remaining Mothermen spread out, dropping down to lower their profiles as they head out into the open space.
It wasnāt that C_K wasnāt listening to his Captain, more that he was paying more attention to the world around them. A tension between his shoulderblades, his head cocked slightly to one side and gaze turned away from S_R and the gathered AGRI Wards. Listening.
Listening to the faint sound of music filtering through air much fresher than he was used to. The rush of wind through the cracks in crumbling walls. The tiny sounds of creatures scurrying unseen. Waiting for something to come along that wasnāt as harmless as rats and insects. As always his primary objective was watching his Captainās back. And then waiting for orders.
As soon as S_R was on the move, C_K fell into step behind him. Ever on guard and silent on his feet. Not needing an order to hunker down and make himself smaller, less visible to the naked eye. He knew the ropes better than most and as a unit, the two men were like a well oiled machine. Despite the bickering.
[C_K] Nice pep talk there, Captain. I think theyāre really starting to warm to you.
[S_R] Imagine how much I care.
*There are a few rusting remains of old boobytraps still scattered around the barley, but the rotting stalks do little to hide them now, and they are easily avoided. Ā As the two men get closer to the Silo doors, skirting the edge of the crater, the sound of music is even more obvious to intently-listening ears. Ā S_R crouches down, batting with disgust at a few insects that buzz idly up from the disturbed flowers, and peers across at the wedged-open doorway.
[S_R] We closed that, didnāt we?
*Not much passed by C_Kās notice. Never really had done and it was something that he clung to. Not quite a photographic memory, but close. And they certainly had closed that door. But it was the tracks surrounding the silo that he had noticed first. Nothing that animals could have done. And it was from someone who wasnāt trying to hide. Who didnāt think that anyone else would be coming this way.*
[C_K] Made double sure we did.
*S_R nods, slightly. Ā Heās pretty sure - very sure, and it isnāt like heās a man especially prone to self-doubt - but it isā¦ reassuring, to have C_Kās assessment match his own. Ā Heās willing to admit to himself at least that the little pratās tracking skills are rather above his own. Ā Which is fine. Ā Thatās what delegation is for.
*The Mothermen make their way down the side of the crater - carefully, just about managing not to slip on the mud and rocks - and after a few more checks for new boobytraps, or ambushes, slip in through the opened doors. Ā The inside of the building certainly hasnāt improved since they were last here, and indeed the upper room looks even more of a wreck than before. Ā Not just from degradation of the previous damage, either. Ā Someone has been doing some serious scavenging, and S_Rās narrowed gaze tracks along the torn scars in the walls, where panels have been wrenched free and the empty shells of wiring insulation hang limp.
Music is floating up the stairs. Ā The two Wards spread out again, checking the room as they rotated around the stairwell; C_Kās fingers twitching; S_Rās pistol drawn. Ā Positioned in an opened pincer - they wait.
*A large segment of panelling joins them from the corridor, clattering against the grated floor. After a brief pause, a tall gentleman in a somewhat travel-worn green suit enters the room, swigging from a rather old-looking bottle of whiskey; some archaic brand. A freshly-torn bundle of cabling sits crammed into one of his suit pockets. He pauses, mid-step, then licks his lips clean of the strong alcohol. His lips break into a wide smile.
[Lennart] : Good morning, friends! Quite a day for endeavouring spirits such as ourselves, mm? What an opportunity, left to fester in the dirt~
*Lennart tilts the bottle-neck towards them meaningfully, looking around the cavernous space of the Siloās entrance hall.
*Both Wards start slightly at the sudden clang, and for a few heartbeats the sharp poise in their movements gives out, as identical expressions of abrupt confusion staple across both bearded faces. Ā C_K recovers first.
[C_K] Iā¦ Fuckā¦ What?
*Not his most eloquent moment. The Ward visibly shook himself and stood straighter, rolling his shoulders back and cocking his head slightly to one side. Green eyes narrowed on the taller man, annoyed by how he had to tilt his head back slightly to take him all in. A breath. Held. Let out slowly. The man was not like any heād seen before, but he was absolutely certain his Captain would know what to do. And the slight glance to the man at his side along with an eyebrow raise said as much.*
*S_R takes a bit longer to react. Ā Considering the tangle of concerns, half-suspicions and paranoia that had wrapped around this trip in his mind - this isnāt what he was expecting. Ā Some overgrown idiot dressed like a bush and swigging something that smelled like solvent even from here. Ā When he does react, itās closer to instinct, and the gun swings out in that familiar action, pointed at the new grinning face.
[S_R] Who. The hell. Are you?
*The stranger gives a broad, (not literally) disarming smile
[Lennart] : Lennart Pengersen, my friend! Here, I do rememberā¦
*He gives an apologetic grin, patting himself down, rummaging in pockets and hidden compartments of the tailored suit.
[Lennart] : Ah, yes! Here we go! It has been some time since Iāve had to use one of these!
*The businessman presents a small card, stamped with a monochrome gear design and embossed with flourishing font, because of course it is. It reads āLennart Pengersen - Businessman and Champion of Blessed Opportunityā. He holds it between the two Statesmen, making no real effort to move closer but taking an exceptionally real swig of the whiskey once more.
* S_R doesnāt move for another second or so, other than his eyebrows, which are making a break for his hairline. Ā Finally he nods C_K towards the card, not moving his aim from the big man. Ā Who seems annoyingly disinterested in having a gun pointed at him.
*His own eyebrows finally lower and after a quick scan for any weapons that might be about the manās person, C_K reached out and took the card. Eyes quickly scanning it before letting out a little huff of disbelief.*
[C_K] Yeahā¦ It really does say thatā¦
*The card was turned over and over in gloved hands but it didnāt make sense from any angle.*
[C_K] Heāsā¦ Got his name on a bit of cardā¦
[S_R] ...in case you fucking forget?
*Lennart looks between them, finds straight faces, and begins to laugh. His large chest heaves with mirth as he shakes his head, finishing the whiskey bottle and sitting down on a piece of debris (formerly a storage container, contents 26 x Can of Mushroom Soup).
[Lennart] : Oh, it has been such a long time since I have dealt with Motherās Boys, forgive me!
*He sets the bottle down on the floor between them.
[Lennart] : Say we meet at a business gathering, and it is a very cordial affair, with much exchanging of information between businessfolk such as ourselves. Very useful! But in two months time, perhaps when you require my services, how will you recall it all? Surely it is much moreā¦ efficient to have all of the vital statistics kept before you in attractive font, yes?
[S_R] If I couldnāt remember, you clearly didnāt make much of an impression.
*The Captain is starting to unfreeze from his initial confusion. Ā Still has the gun raised, but his expression is settling back into a more habitual scowl, as his gaze tracks across the man in front of him.
[S_R] Alright, card-boy. Ā Weāve got your name. Ā Now - what are you doing? Ā Bearing in mind this is a State Facility, and youāve sure as shit recognised what we are.
*Lennart smirks, leaning back against the wall.
[Lennart] Is it? It doesnāt look much like one, my friend. Why, usually one of your lovely little FACs has plenty more people, no? Some electricity, even? Maybe an AI?
*He examines the back of one of his gloves, thick and brown. Durable. He doesnāt actually remember buying themā¦
[Lennart] Seems more like a ruin to me, although Iām not an expertā¦
*S_Rās eyes narrow a little further.
[S_R] This A-D-E-F-Facility is under the purview of FAIR-CO, and the - * it isnāt a hesitation, not quite, but there is a flicker of fresh scorn somewhere under his voice that isnāt entirely aimed at Lennart* - āMothermenā Security Extraction Force. Ā All property, resource, personnel and anything nailed down or not: Is ours.
[S_R] So. Ā Iāll ask you. Ā Again.
[S_R] What. Are you doing. Ā Here?
*Lennartās grin doesnāt falter
[Lennart] Listen, this does not need to be difficult, my dear, well-armed friend.
*He stands up, cracking his knuckles a little bit. A few more bones crack than are meant to in his older form.
[Lennart] We are both here for the same reason; just picking apart a wreck, no? The only difference is you get paid by yourā¦ facilitator, or something, and I am paid by you, ideally. I have retrieved plenty of valuable material, documents, components and equipment, and would be more than happy to part with them, with only minimal labour costs incurredā¦
*C_K had chosen to be silent for the moment. Straightening his back and rolling back his shoulders to be the silent shadow at his Captainās side. Breathing slowing and form becoming completely still. Almost unnaturally so. As the strange man stood and cracked his knuckles, a further shift came over the Ward. An almost dangerous air as his eyes narrowed slightly and his hands curled into fists at his sides.*
[C_K] Carefulā¦
*The card crumpled in his palm*
[C_K] We have no intention of giving you anything. But we will be taking back what youāve stolen.
*Lennartās eyebrows raise, his grin remaining fixed. He briefly contemplates the distance from his hand to the drill strapped to his back-plate, the distance from the drill to his conversation partners. Perhaps later.
[Lennart] Friend, friend. My āstolenā items have not even left the premisesā¦
[S_R] Then what - exactly - makes them yours?
*He studies Lennart again. Ā The faintest flicker in the manās stare, under the irritatingly-jovial facade. Ā Something more dangerous. Ā More interesting.
Something that might be useful.
*S_R tilts his gun upwards, enough to take it out of line of the manās forehead, and his expression returns to something more conspiratorial.
[S_R] Although Iāll admit, it saves us some time. Ā If youāve found anything of actual use in this chlorinated shithole, I might be persuaded to forget we met you. Ā Or better.
*Lennart smiles wide, his older face creasing.
[Lennart] See, much betterā¦ Even in the State, business is importantā¦ deals might as well be my lifeblood, my boyā¦
*He suppresses a chuckle
[Lennart] But eh, forgive me, I donāt keep up with the young onesā interests so much. What is of use to you, dear āMothermenā? Enough to come back to a barely-chlorinated shithole by this point..?
[S_R] First? Ā Iām not your boy.
*He holsters the pistol, and instead fishes something out of one of the pockets of his jacket. Ā Doesnāt show it, just yet, but folds his arms firmly with his fists closed tight across his chest.
[S_R] Captain. Ā S_R. Ā I donāt have it on a card, so I guess youāll just have to remember me.
[S_R] Operational records. Ā Functioning electronics; storage ideally. Ā The AIās scrap and half the general systems are outdated and fried, so you can keep any of that garbage youāve dragged up. Ā Anything with a State security mark above Rank Three, or looks like itās been Redacted in a real fucking hurry. Ā And -
*now his fingers uncurl, revealing a small vial, with a copper cylinder inside, stained with ichor*
[S_R] Anything that looks like this.
*Lennart frowns, leaning in to squint at the vial-held substance.
[Lennart] Electronics..? You would be lucky, friend S_R. Please, tell me you can smell the burnt plastic in the airā¦
*He smirks, stepping back once again.
[Lennart] There is a reason I had resorted to liberating the basic wiring, rather than moreā¦ complex technology, ha ha. Records, those I may be able to help with. Yourā¦ Facilitatorās rooms are always bountiful with information~
[S_R] The less of this fetid tomb I can breathe in, the better. Ā *His nose wrinkles at the mention of burnt plastic.* Right. Ā You know what we want. Ā Our own team will be joining us for our work, and I seriously suggest you donāt get in their way, or try taking any blessed opportunities.
*S_R turns to C_K, still eyeing Lennart with sharp suspicion.
[S_R] Send the signal. Ā And watch the door, once theyāre in. Ā Wouldnāt want anyone getting any funny ideas.
The inside of Bolframmonās tent is lit with gently guttering points of multicoloured light, contained in strange lanterns of smoked glass. Arabesque shadows are cast around the wares laid out for sale, and saffron incenses smokes on the dark wooden shelves. Books of every colour of ancient leather are stacked in leaning piles, amongst rolled parchments and boxes of carved yew wood. The door, of draped cloth, is pulled back shyly, curiously, and a young woman steps wide-eyed into the tent.
Finding no attendant, Isabel approaches the little table, where several daggers of beautiful, scintillating alloy are arrayed for inspection on a cloth of silk. Below them, a sword, inscribed with unknown runes and inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
Isabel carries a simple cage of rain-rusted brass. Inside, a few subdued songbirds chirrup. Bundled over her shoulder are rolls of linen, calico, embroidered taffeta, and held in the crook of her elbow, oddly iridescent hand woven lace in guipure style. The young woman looks weary, and her hair has been made untidy by the recent rain.
[Isabel] ā¦ Hello? Sir? Madam?
[Bolframmon] *heard in the distance* One moment!..
Bolframmon appears out from behind the counter, almost out of nowhere, the lanterns about the tent change colour to a bright blue upon his arrival. He smiles at his guest although his eyes show a brief moment of surprise. His customers were of varying ages and cultures but it had been a while since someone had entered his tent so young. But there was something else about her that he couldnāt put his finger on, it's almost as if there was an air of familiarity about her, it almost reminded him of home.
[Bolframmon] Good Afternoon my dear! How can I be of help?
Her voice is watery with nervousness. But she smiles and bows slightly.
[Isabel] ā¦ I have birds for sale, Sir, and fabrics too; none salvaged nor burned! Threads, too, pins, nothing State, no substitutes. The lace is good Sir, hand madeā¦ Now, a man of stature ought to have some embellishmentā¦ Customers donāt like to see a threadbare merchant ā¦ Shall we try this?
The young woman hefts the fabrics onto his small table and places the cage on the floor. The birds cheep and flutter anxiously. She lifts a portion of silk, dyed in a gradients of blue and presses it against Bolfās shoulder.
[Isabel] Oh how it suits you! Youāll be the envy of all others! And how about a plump little bird or two for supper? Why, theyāre delicious soaked in Armagnacā¦
Bolframmon raises an eyebrow at the young lady and smiles, sheād almost make a fantastic saleswomen if she didnāt sound so nervous. But why is she nervous? Iāve done nothing to make her that way... He takes the fine silk into his hands, making sure to keep eye contact with the seamstress
[Bolframmon] No doubt your wares are lovely and this is all well and good, but youāve yet to answer my question; how can I help you? What exactly are you after miss?
She meets his strange eyes. Her own are a shade mismatched and her hands, against him, are gloved.
[Isabel] ā¦ Honest trade Sir - Shoes for the horse, tabacā¦ The road is hardā¦ And you canāt sell anything to these State-ones, theyād rather die from the cold than trade for a woollen cloakā¦ Foul men. There. Now this seam should lie flat. A man should dress every day as if he might meet his bride, or his worst enemy!
He chuckles at the last statement His Bride or his Worst Enemy, last time he was well dressed she turned out to be both. He still felt like she was after something else, but he decided to play along. At the minimum he was getting some additions to his robes.
[Bolframmon] Very well then, let us trade! I have some fine tabac from down south that Iāll exchange for this lovely silk youāve bestowed upon me! And that black songbird *He hears the songbird chirp, it sounds worried* and no Iām not going to eat you little one.
She makes a sound of discontent, moving around him to bunch the silk into dramatic drapes.
[Isabel] Well, how much tobacco? Silk is expensive Sir. Very. And this is almost certainly dyed with real lapis. It would be an injustice to let it go for nothing, and my Father, heās a good man Sir, but he would be terribly angry, you see. You must get a good price Isabel, fifille, if weāre to eat! Yes, and the black one - well, youāve excellent taste Sir, he has the finest voice of all! Only, the blacksmith has already offered me a pretty penny for himā¦ I suppose Iād take a dagger, the tobacco, perhaps some oil for my lamps Sir, if you can spare it for a young lady? And a handful of your coin of course - for the lot.
She steps back, admiringly.
[Isabel] No brass of course. Now doesnāt that look handsome. Dazzling! You look clad in evening itself.
[Bolframmon] *he looks at the adjustments she has made to his robes, he grins at the handiwork* Well well, the young lady has beauty and brains it seems! I have plenty of tobacco to trade and you raise a hard bargain! But on consideration this is exceptional craftsmanship so I accept! But on one conditionā¦
He places a hand on one of the ornate daggers, its handle decorated with runes and its blade intricate but clearly deadly.
[Bolframmon] What does one as lovely as yourself need a dagger for?
She looks aside. Her voice becomes a murmur.
[Isabel] Well... In case I meet my worst enemy of course... Since I am already dressed for him.
She bows in her blood red cloak.
Bolframmon looks at the young girl, finally understanding her nerves. Who is going after a young girl? Then he remembered how disgusting humanity can be, and they call him the monster.
[Bolframmon] Very wellā¦ then we must arm you with something that matches your attire my dear.
He reaches underneath the stall and pulls out a small blade, its blade straight on one side but curved at another, foreign symbols etched upon its bottom. Itās handle is leather leaving diamond patterns up to the guard and on its sheath, a Ā a small charm hangs from it. Both handle and sheath almost matching the red of the young ladies cloak.
[Bolframmon] I received this on my journeys through the east, the little charm there is one of protection, may it serve you wellā¦ *he places the sealed weapon in both hands and presents it to girl*
Isabel takes the blade. Her careful, merchant eyes take stock of the item, the weight, and finish, all in a polite, but thorough manner. She thumbs the blade from its sheath.
[Isabel] ā¦ Iāll show him my blade is just as sharp as my wit and my tongue.
She lays the blade down on her bolts of fabric, and lifts the cage where the little wild birds flutter.
[Isabel] Well, come out, little fascienne. Shhh.
She eases open the little rusted door. The birds panic, but her quick, gloved hands seize the blackbird securely. She brings it from the cage, oddly subdued in her hands. A few threads of spider web cling to the feathers of the bird, and she picks them off. Ā Bringing it close to her lips she whispers a few lulling words. Itās cheeps soften, until the birdās eyes are blank and it is unmoving. Isabel brings up her other hand to close around its little neck. She pauses, eyes narrowing.
[Isabel] Are you certain you wonāt have him for supper, chou? I will pluck āim for you.
Bolframmon raises his hand to halt her and shakes his head
[Bolframmon] No no, the bird wonāt be eaten, it's much more useful as it is right now, more entertaining too.
He walks around the corner, returning with a black steel bird cage, its frame decorated with wires looking like vines and flowers. He props it on the counter before pulling out a small bag out of his robe sleeve. The bag is made of a similar material to his robes and looks somewhat full, it jingles as he places it down and opening it reveals a large variety of currencies. He takes out a few gold coins and slides them over to his customer.
Isabel looks over the transaction and the markings in the coins of soft, old gold. Bolf has been generous, and she gives a nod of thanks, before laying down the fragile, seemingly sleeping bird beside the coin.
[Isabel] One less for the pot! He will wake up. Take him.
She watches as Bolf also prepares a bundle of dried tobacco leaves, and she places the coin in her needleworked leather satchel as he does so, tucking the sword under her arm and the bundle of tobacco in the crux of her elbow. Isabel turns, shouldering her burden of silks, rags, and fabrics, and lifting her cage again.
[Isabel] If I catch āim a Mrs. Blackbird, Sir, I will come back. They will duet.
[Bolframmon] *he smiles at her as he places the bird in his new cage* And Iām sure a lovely duet it will be *he bows* A pleasure doing business miss.
Isabel departs his tent, laden with her goods, returning his smile with a wink.
Bolframmon turns his attention to the bird, gently stroking its wing as it awakens. A brief tingling sensation flows through the tip of his fingers, a sign of magic.
[Bolframmon] Oh? *he flexes his hands as he closes the bird in its cage, the bird singing quite happily. He looks and grins at the bird* Curious and curiouser, wouldnāt you say my little friend?
Roan has welcome-packets to hand out to all new people in the camp. Matis, being a native Fairco-nian, is unable to resist.
Starring: Roan, Matis Phelan and Breather-Wards.
Warnings: None.
There are no more distractions, no more people; not with jangling bionics nor with charming leopard print. There is only Roan amidst a sea of scattered boxes. There is a stack of finished packages set behind the counter, neatly folded and upon it, with the help of a stencil and some white spray paint, a happy message of 'Welcome'.
Roan's idea, the memory of cold nights accompanied by the silence of darkness and silent roar of an empty stomach enough reason to ensure nobody else would live through the same if she could help it. Perhaps a waste of resources to some, but to her it might show as a sign of gratitude and welcome, perhaps enthralling others to joinā¦ Perhaps just-ā¦ her way of making this world slightly better.
She puts the torch in the last box, four times 1-0ā¦ For now it should be enough to give to the people outside. Her hand rummages through it, accounting for everything she had set out to put in there;
A blanket of thick material ā industrial and layered with a fine sheet of plastic on one side for multiple uses, a torch ā small, weak but self-sustaining with a crank on its side.
A portion of field-rations ā high-calorie bread made with protein powder, pork fat, nuts, and honey, salvaged with just a few spices and herbs, enough to just cut through the gritty, salty taste of the fat but certainly an acquired taste. Along with a re-usable metal tin of water.
The last item: a container with ointment, an off-white in colour, and it's only explanation ā a small scribble of felt-tip pen, hastily scrawled: 'for pain//AB-AS'. She'd caught snippets of Rocksalt's little explanation, something about an ointment, antiseptic and pain-relieving because of morphine something or other. Not medication, merely preparation.
Her hands have long since memorised the practise of folding the box and within a second the cardboard slab reaches under and over the rest, sealing it. The last one, she puts it with the others before dragging the chalkboard outside and standing it next to the hairy, plastic elephant. Although heavy and loaded with sand for stabilising she sets it down without much effort. She goes back inside, cleaning what few stray-boxes are obstructing the knick-knacks and wares on display.
For newcomers to the Settlement:
Free welcoming packet upon saying 'hi'.
Ask inside.
It was a bi-yearly tradition for Matis to place his backpack on the slightly worn head of the plastic, decorative elephant outside the sewn together tent as he rummages around to find a new, full canister of oxygen. Even the very faint drizzling rain appears right on time for their arrival.
He hears a faint hiss when he unscrews the empty canister and Ā a soft āclickā when attaching the new one to the nozzle. Leaning against the elephant; his eyes rest upon the chalkboard sign next to him as he takes his time to catch his breath. His men wait and continue to do so until Matis pockets his oxygen and shoulders his rifle. Their reticence to speak is their greatest talent, most of the time.
With a small limp in his step, Matis enters the tent the same way he does every other previous time he visited: Like an injured, wary wolf with its upper lip every so slightly curled into a sneer. His men follow soon after.
Roan recognises him instantly, that shrewd and sharp face with parchment-like skin stretched so taut over it it might crack open any moment. His is a ghastly face; pale, defined and aged. His is the face she imagines when there is talk of ghouls and Drowners.
But she knows better than to judge by looks alone. She knows Matis, one of the first outsiders to have arrived in Blue Light after the message went out. She believes him to be kind, a bit of a windbag but kind. She pities Matis and his men as she already stretches her arm sideways, dragging a box with prepackaged waffles her way. Dry, as good as tasteless, but at least filling and likely holding more nutritional value than whatever paste they smashed through those raspy-sounding faceplates.
[Roan] Matis! You made it back again! I was kind of afraid you-ā¦
The young woman trails off, a look of concerned horror replaced with an innocent, if slightly guilty, smile.
[Roan] How are you? You've lost weight again, haven't you?
How odd it can be to hear ones own name spoken with such friendly glee. And how odd it is to hear his name being spoken in the first placeā¦ By now, he knows it is almost futile to teach anyone with Dreglandersā muddied blood running through their veins, to address him the way they should. Yet still he insists. After all, if even a Mother-forsaken Unward can be taught new tricks, Roan will eventually learn as well.
[Matis] āLieutenantā.
The Breathers eye the box she drags closer with hunger. All but N_H know whatās inside. The young womanās polite questions go unanswered.
[Matis] I am not here for small-talk, girl. Now unless you are guilty of false-advertisingā¦ we will take our āwelcoming packagesā.
[Roan] I mean each time you leave here and I'm thinking: 'He'll look better next time. He can't lose anymore, can he?' But by the Benign you get here and it'sā¦ It's kind of infuriatingā¦ I try my best but your boss-lord-whateverā¦ He's just forgets to feed you. Maybe stick your nose in his face? Works for Waffles.
She babbles carelessly; sweet, delighted but painfully unhindered by certain social stigma. It isn't long before she notices the curious and timid faces of the Breathers peeking up behind Matis. The box is pushed forwards and a friendly nod is given for them to take what they want.
[Roan] Go on, no need to be afraid. Theyāre fine!
She speaks with a light voice, delicately pronounced as if speaking to a small animal or child despite her likely being the youngest in the entire tent. Her gaze returns to Matis. Her innocent smile breaks open to a wide almost sinister smirk. Perhaps Jangles might have rubbed off on her more than she'd realised.
[Roan] You didn't say 'hi', Matis, dear. Besides that's kind of the reason behind it! Get to know people, friendly talk! Being nice. All that good stuff!
The Breathers linger behind Matis; like sheep behind their shepherd. They will go as far he can see from the corners of his eyes but not a single step beyond that point. Her invitation falls on deaf ears. The younger ones of the small group briefly glance towards Matis but hold their position.
Itās quiet in the tent as Matis assesses both Roan and the boxes she offers. He places one hand on the nearest Welcome Package and slides it closer to him over the counter. Sheās rightā¦ The one condition to receive a free gift such as this one was indeed listed on the chalkboard outside. And Matis is, of all things, a man who likes to play by the rules.
[Matis] Alright. If you must know, girl; Our dietary requirements are met and maintained. Indulging is an affront to Mother. A sin that weighs... B_Wā¦-
He lifts the box in both hand and passes it to the Breather closest to him.
[Matis] - ...aboutā¦-?
The box is opened and the Breather inspects the food-rations inside.
[B_W] -ā¦about one and a half pounds, sir.
The box now remains with the Breather.
[Matis] About one and a half pounds.
His dark, half-hooded stare remains on Roan but is only broken briefly as he glances towards the rest of his men. With a nod of his head he allows them to come forward and take a box for themselves.
[Matis] And you will gain an important lifeās lesson: If you would like to continue to talk to me, girl, you will refer to me as āLieutenantā or āSirā. This is your final warning before your actions will be classified as acts of non-compliance and hostility against the written trade treaty with FAIR-CO. Am I clear?
There is a knife-like sharpness to all interactions with Matisā¦ No, a better comparison would be a fireā¦ in the rain. Difficult to get going but once it's started it might temporarily be comfortable but too close and you get burned. The sputtering fire coughs once, twice and seconds later Roan blisters her fingers due to carelessness.
She fidgets on her feet for a few seconds, knocked off-balance by the sudden wall erected between them. Her brow creases in confusion and worry. Defensively she takes the box of waffles, the stack of welcoming packets forgotten. She takes out one packet of waffles and slides it over to B_W, another one is slid to the position of a Breather near him and continues until every one of them has one in front of them. Her fingers remain on the packet in front of Matis, shy eyes slowly gazing up to look him in the eyes.
The Breathers take whatās now theirs; leaving their waffles and packets untouched as they put it all in their backpacks. They begin to groan under the weight and fatigue. Matisā face turns the other direction as Roanās eyes focus on him. Head down; a shadow over his eyes now.
[Roan] I-ā¦ I didn't do anything you just said. I'm not trying to insult you. I'm being niceā¦ Far nicer than Jangles ever is with you. I wannaāā¦
She sighs in defeat, her brain racing to catch up with the scenario she somehow ended up in.
[Roan] I wanna see you happy, Mister Felon, sir. I wanna see everyone happy. Beeyuuw, Eyecks, Ahetchā¦ Just everyone. 'Sirs' and 'Lew tennants' will only distance that.
Matis reaches for his oxygen mask, inhaling several times while Roan talks. His strength is spread thin and the cold rain and aching joints have worn him down to the bone. Some distance is exactly what he needs right now. And speaking of ādistanceā...
[Matis] Tell Jangles -ā¦hgnnā¦- We will set up camp near the border. Same rules apply.
There is only a solemn nod at his words, a weak 'Will do.' before her eyes dart from one miserable, starved soul to the other. Her eyes stay fixed upon B_W, she stares at them, the side of her mouth twitches.
Her hand returns to the box, the package crinkles in her hands before she slaps another packet on top of the one she just gave Matis. The sadness doesn't stick to her face. A cracked expression immediately broken by sheer happiness and the unmistakable grin of success.
[Roan] But it's helping, innit? My waffles are putting some meat on your bones, finally!
Amor and Cass continue to make friends. This sharp-looking peddler of weird goods seems to be a good start.
Starring: Amor, C_S/Cassius and Bolframmon
Warnings: strong language
A sweet aroma fills the air, the rich smell of chocolate, almost strong enough to be smelled outside the small merchant tent, comes flying from the door behind the stall.
A happy whistle can be heard, also coming from the back, as Bolf strides into the store with a tray of cookies.
[Bolframmon] Aaaah, just like mother used to make... delightful! *He swipes one of the cookies and takes a huge bite out of it.* Yepā¦Iāve missed having a place to bakeā¦ Wonder if I could sell these?
They decide to take some time from their own stall to look around the settlement and see if there is anything worth seeing. Cassius for his want to silently collect information on those around them, and Amor for his inability to stay still for more than five minutes.
The former is a mountain of a man. Tall and broad with facial features that can be deemed feminine if not for the strong jaw and two days worth of stubble adorning olive skin. Chestnut hair that normally falls to his waist gathered up into a neat bun at the base of his head. The sides of his head neatly shaved to show the tattooed letters 'C.S.'. Dressed all in black from shirt to tie to a tailored suit that has seen better days. Carefully cut out windows on the backs of black leather gloves to show intricate tattooed symbols that will give him away to those who know what they are looking for. Similar windows cut over his bulging biceps to show black ink detailing Furtherances.
The man trotting by his side is stark in contrast.
Shorter than his companion, but by no means frail. Lithe muscle and crude, amateur tattoos are on display as he has chosen to wear no shirt. Only a large leopard print fur coat draped over his shoulders and gold chains upon his chest. Handmade trousers put together by scraps of leather each from a different hide and mismatched army boots completed this frayed and ratted outfit. The hair on his head a shocking shade of white-blonde and standing mostly on end. The owner has long given up on trying to style it. This is hair that did exactly what it wanted.
Amor scratches at his barely groomed beard as the pair wanders up to the first stall. The scent of baking making his stomach growl and a slow grin begins to creep across his face. There is a low hum of warning from Cassius, but Amor is certain that Big J wouldnāt dream of letting anyone dangerous enter his settlement, so going over and saying hello and trying to get a bit of grub isn't going to do any harm.
[Amor] Ey! Yāhandinā those out? Cause, donāt see a fer sale sign or prices anā shit. This mean theyāre open fer grabbinā? Kinda hungry, yāsee. Been hard anā busy work, ya know? Nameās Amor, anā the big guy āere is Cass.
Cassius stays silent.
Bolf is mid-cookie when his guests enter the tent, looking at their attire he assumes they aren't of a magical profession, although one of the two has a faint air of magic about them. He swallows, smiles at the gentleman and gestures towards the cookies.
[Bolframmon] By all means my friends, come and help yourself! Iāve always thought food tastes better with company anyway, much like drink, wouldnāt you agree? *He stays seated, resting his arms on the stall.*
There is the slightest look exchanged between the two men. Eyes slipping to corners to glance at each other before Amor is moving. Hand reaching out and greedily grabbing three of the cookies in his paw. The slightest huff from Cassius was all the utterance he makes. More a sound of displeasure than a warning. The taller man slowly reaching out and primly plucks a cookie from the plate between his thumb and forefinger. The biscuit scrutinised for a moment before being broken in half. It certainly seems like there was chocolate in there, and a careful bite confirms it. A wary, yet pointed look is sent to the man beside him; who is in the process of shoving the cookies whole into his mouth.
Chocolate. How has this man managed to get hold of chocolate? From the careful exploration of his tongue, he determines either it was a very very good replacement or this man was richer than he seems. Either that or has smuggling connections far out of reach of those of the Dreglands. Cassius carefully considers how he is going to bring this up. Not a man of many words but he listens and pays attention. This is something that would be of use and interest to his companion. And perhaps to Jangles as well. Always know where the money is. It usually leads to the clutch of power.
However, it seems that Amor has been thinking the same thing. Around the prickle of magic his ever rushing mind is trying to ignore and avoid, he has noticed the sweet treat embedded in the cookies. Sugar isn't exactly easy to get hold of, but if you know the right people, say the right thing, have a certain something something to tradeā¦ You can get it. Chocolate on the other handā¦ Hell, he hasn't had chocolate in near enough a year and he was good at what he did.
[Amor] Soā¦ Yāloaded or sumink? Causeā¦ Yer standinā āere handinā out chocolate like it were jusā fallinā from the sky. Gotta understand, friendo, looks mighty suspish. āSpecially since ya aināt even had the politeness to offer yer name when I had the common curtus to do it right away.
[Bolframmon] Oh, I do apologise Gentlemen! Where are my manners? *He stands up from his chair, dusting off his robes of crumbs before addressing the two men.* My name is Bolframmon! Travelling merchant and expert in all magical goods, at your service! *He bows politely.* The chocolate youāre enjoying I got from a trade on my way here, Iāve a bit of a sweet tooth so I couldnāt help myself.
Bolf studies the men properly now as he stands up. This 'Amor' is clearly a man of action, and has some strength underneath that giant fur coat, that can prove useful later down the line. Looking at Cassius he locks eyes with him briefly, he can see the man questioning everything about this situation, gears turning and analysing Bolf to his best degree. I guess these are some of the head Dredglanders men, that 'Jangles', Ā he thinks. He smiles as the men continue to eat his treats, at least his baking is still approved by others
[Amor] Bol...fra...framinnon...faaamā¦ Iāll call ya Bolly. Yālook like a Bolly. Donā really go wiā those fancy names. Too many airs anā graces, yā get me? As fer that chocolate trader oāyoursā¦ Guessinā ya got the brass then? Wanna share the knowledge? Causeā¦ Sure ya knowā¦ Chocolate kinda vanished after the olā Staties fucked it all up fer the rest of us. Wellā¦ I say vanishedā¦ Jusā fuckinā hard tāfind it anywheres, ya know? Whole world seems like the fuckinā wastes these days. Yer not from the State are yaā¦?
Cassius moves a little away from his companion to look at the range of items for sale. He can't really identify if things are actually magical or not, but he has a good feeling that they are a damn sight more legit than the bits of shell and bone that Amor has for sale. Granted, his friend put a lot of work into his charms, and the aesthetic ranged from pretty to verging on voodoo. But nothing that actually works. Amor doesn't work with that kind of magic. His is a raw power he tries to repress. Too much fear of being found out. Of being dragged to the Drowning.
[Amor] Not that Iād judge yer too -harshly- for beinā a Statie, butā¦. Wellā¦. Root of all evil anā all that.
Amor pauses.
[Amor] Hang onā¦ Hang onā¦ Magical goods? So likeā¦ Tricks and shit? I do that. Yanno, find the lady, whatās your card. Hopefully thereās punters cominā through who believe that junk. We both know magic aināt shit, right Bolly?
Bolframmon raises an eyebrow and chuckles at his new name. Heād been called many things over time, Bolframmon, Lord Bolf and something that rhymes with Passive Stunt all came to mind. Another title for another social circle it seems.
He also couldnāt help but grin at the last statement, Root of all evil, bless these mortals.
[Bolframmon] Bolly will do my friend, and indeed! Magic is indeed a thing of wonder and intrigue, hence my passion for collecting and distributing it as such. Also to answer your question, no, I am not part of this State you speak ofā¦*He looks towards Cassius as he's looking through Bolfās wares.* See anything of interest? I can explain what it is if so?
[Cassius] No.
His voice is monotone but soft. Cassius feels no need to make any effort for someone they will be leaving behind in a few weeks. Bolf doesn't run the place and he as of yet hadnāt offered any help in trade. He isn't hisā¦ Thoughts pause as the word swirls in his head, one that hasn't sit right for a while now. Owner. It has been a long time since he considers himself to have one of those. A long time of Amor telling him over and over not to call him that. Because really, it is damn weird. He hadnāt bought him, heād saved him. Big difference.
Bolf doesn't own him, doesn't run the trade-post, and so unless Amor demands he play nice, Cassius doesn't owe him shit.
But perhaps he is making excuses for his own prejudices. Old State life still ingrained in his bones. Amor can't help what he is, but this man seems to revel in it. Seems proud of it. Of magic and all that it can bring. Cassius is still afraid of Magic. He trusts Amor. He trusts the power thrumming through the manās veins. But anyone else? He has to force himself to stop his upper lip from curling at the word Aberrant that slips into his mind. This is one prejudice that was hard to shake.
Amor on the other hand seems undeterred, although Cassius can see the slight tightening of his shoulders. The straightening of his spine. The slightest twitch at the corners of his eyes. The fact that his grin widens and his voice simply gets louder. There is fear around other magic users. A fear of being found out. And for Cassius, the fear that this time he won't be able to save him.
[Amor] Soā¦ Ya donāt wanna share knowledge then? Bit of a piss poor way tāstart our lil' relationship, but whatever, friend. We all āave our trade secrets I guess.
He peers over at the trinkets and charms set out on the stall. Narrowing his eyes a little as he watches Cassiusā long, nimble fingers delicately feather over one or two of the items. Amor doesn't know what any of it is for. Doesn't know what it means. And for that alone, he doesn't trust it.
[Amor] Yeah, but itās a loada bollocks aināt it? Magic anā shit. Somethinā tāimpress the masses, all smoke anā fireworks, innit? Good way oāmaking a living, anā there aināt no shame in trickinā the stupid.
He forces the smile to stay even though he suddenly clocks onto what Amor meant. He actually thinks this is all fake? That Iām some sort of fraud? It has certainly been awhile since a mortal has disreputed the idea of magic, even longer since someone had insulted his trade.
Relax, he means no ill intent, heās just ill informed, the less he knows probably the better.
[Bolframmon] *laughs heartily?* Yes, but of course Amor! Youāre a clever man. This stuff works very similar to faith, pull the strings in the background, put on a show and voila! *He snaps his fingers* Customers and opportunities arise! *He gestures towards the inventory on show.* Iāll have to put on a act for you all sometime.
[Amor] Yeah, Iām right clever, me.
The soft snort that comes from Cassius is pointedly ignored.
[Amor] Seem like a smart kinda guy yerself. Got a nice lil' set up here. How long it take ya tāmake alla this shit? Takes me a while tāmake alla my trinkets, but worth it in the end, yeah? Folks eat it up. āSpecially theā¦ Whaddaya call āemā¦ Citizen types. Got a fucking hard on for even a sniff of magic. Pay out of pocket for a bit oārock wiā some string and paint on it.
He barks out a quick shot of laughter to hide the way his eyes nervously flicker across the wares that the other man is selling. His eyes lock with his companion briefly and Cassius gives him a knowing little look. Neither have the ability to gauge someoneās power, but pushing their luck isn't on the cards. Just because Cassius has seen Amor destroy a wall with a wave of his hand doesn't mean that this person couldnāt do much worse.
However, Amorās need to squash down any admittance that magic is real is too strong. A shield and sword heād used many times before to deflect any thoughts that he himself might be magic. The unbeliever can't possibly hold any power himself. Keep shouting that gospel over and over again and hopefully he wonāt end up being marched to the Drowning.
[Amor] Faithā¦ Sure. Call it whatever ya like, Bolls. Itās still sleight of hand anā fuckinā magnets.
Why is this man so adamant on magic not existing? Bolframmon thinks, humans have always longed for these abilities, for fame, power or just for ease of life. Yet here this man is trying to reject every aspect of it. The notion confuses Bolf even more seeing as he could feel the dormant magic within him. Very well, if a simple magician he wants, a simple magician Iāll be.
[Bolframmon] Indeed, but we canāt deny, it's certainly some pretty magnets to the untrained eye. *He pulls out a coin from his robe, the copper shines in the light revealing its foreign designs on its body. Dipping it into a nearby lantern the coin starts to melt in his hands, Bolf then claps the coin into his hands, he opens them to reveal the coin has disappeared.* Cassius my friend, check your left pocket.
Amorās eyes glitter at the sight of the coin. It has been a long time since heād seen any kind of currency. He works mainly in trading. Kick the shit out of a guy for food and board. Do some tricks for some leather and fur. Couple of weeks of bodyguarding for jewels and a tiara. Actual money on the other handā¦? Hard to come by. And his gaze is fixed on the coin as images of riches dance in his head.
The little squark of objection he makes as the coin is melted down is almost enough to make Cassius smirk. Although, the much bigger manās expression becomes vacant the second that Bolf speaks his name. There is a stillness to the man that verges on unnatural. A beautiful marble statue stands poised in the light of Bolfās lanterns. A bird-like cock of his head as he looks to Amor as if for orders. The shorter man merely nods.
Cassius dips his thumb and forefinger into his pocket and brings out the coin. Delicately gripped between his fingertips with a look of disgust on his face, as one might hold a dead shrew.
[Cassius] Huh.
The coin is tossed over to Amor who greedily snatches it out of the air and shoves it down the front of his trousers. If Bolf is happy for coins to leave his hands then he is happy not to see them again. Cassius wipes his hands primly down the front of his suit jacket as if heād touched something dirty. Subtly giving Bolf the updown with eyes that relay his prejudice.
[Amor] Neat lil' trick ya got there, Bolly. Might hafta teach it tāme sometime!
He picks up the plate which holds the remaining cookies and salutes the man behind the stall.
[Amor] Was good makinā aquis-i-tions wiā ya. Might see ya again, friendo!
A wave over his shoulder as he turns on his heel. Swaggering away as if heād won some kind of great battle. In his head, heās done good. Made a connection with someone rich. Someone to either befriend or rob blind before they leave. Cassius gives Bolf a long, thoughtful look before nodding his goodbye and following silently after his friend.
Bolframmon bows his head before waving to the two gentlemen as they leave his tent, a smirk on his face as they leave, whether they'll become friend or foeā¦ He can tell from this first meeting alone that he had made the right call coming to this settlement.
His time here is certainly going to be entertaining.
Nothing goes untested as Raziel takes to the skies with his latest experiment. Luckily he has some help handy should things go wrong!
Starring; Raziel and Blue
Warning: None
āCrystals in place, magic energy seems stable, almost ready to be testedā¦ā
The sun has reached its peak over Castle Oakheart, a strong breeze dances through the walls and nearby fields. Raziel stands at the edge of the forest facing the Castle, stabbing the tip of his boots into the dirt, almost to test them.
The young mage has gotten back into his studies and amongst the notes lays a page of particular interest, its page covered in highlights and notes left to him by a friend, magic travel and enchantments.
After hours of research and experimenting he thinks he has finally made a breakthrough with the magic. The shining green gemstones embedded in the back of his boots proof that he deems himself ready.
[Raziel] Okay... Wind travel experiment: Take Oneā¦
He stretches his legs and arms, mentally bracing himself for what is about to come.
Blue looks up at the sound of a window breaking. She glances at the crow perched on the back of a chair.
[BlueSky] Nights or Krauzer? *She asks without alarm. The bird croaks a response. *True, but not enough to be the kitchen. *She stands up and gives herself a small shake before trotting off down the hallway, out an unbroken window to scurry along one the branches of the central oak for which the castle was named, down the trunk into the main garden.
Raziel rubs his head and back as he finally gets up from his crash, he nervously laughs at the broken window while wincing at the pain.
[Raziel] *in a mocking high pitched voice as he walks from his accident* āOh wind magic is easy, and travelling is even easier.ā Lucina, you were full of crapā¦
Blue pokes her head around the corner curiously
[BlueSky] Wind magic was that? Oh, Raz, itās you. *She walks over to offer him a hand up* If you want to join the glass breaking contest youāve got a bit of work to catch up to.
[Raziel] *accepts the hand up and chuckles.* Yeah so Iāve heard... errr- sorry about the window, I was trying out something different from my Tome.
[BlueSky] Donāt you worry we can get that fixed in a day or so, but I would worry about books telling you to jump out of windowsā¦
[Raziel] Err, thatās the thing, I was over there. *He hangs his head and points to the edge of the forest* I was aiming to go through the trees but the spell had other plans it seemsā¦
Blue looks at where he is pointing, at him, at the window, then back to him.
[BlueSky]How fast were you traveling to make the window break? *She says incredulously* And how have you not broken something on you?Ā Ā Ā
[Raziel] How fast? No clue, was panicking, too much to check. Howād I not break anything or die? *He taps his vambraces, inside is a brown gemstone placed into the front plate.* I had a quick spell which hardens the skin and body to an extent with an earth crystal, I changed the gem just in case something like that would happen. You know, safety first and all that.
[BlueSky] Huh. Your magic sure is different from what I know. So ughā¦ why, were you travelling so fast?
[Raziel] *shrugs.* In all honesty I should have been able to control the speed, it's just meant to augment running and jumping speed, not send myself literally flying. Took one step after the spell and well... *He gestures a spiralling motion while whistling.*
Blue's ears go back slightly, before pointing forward with curiosity.
[BlueSky] You mentioned wind magic?
[Raziel] Oh yes! *He gestures to the green emeralds in the side of his boots, tapping them before facing Blue again.* Most of the crystals in my world have an elemental attribute, green symbolises wind and air, allows for fast travel amongst other things.
She gives an āOoo!ā of interest before taking hold of a boot and lifting it to examining the shining gem, apparently uninterested in the fact she is unbalancing Raziel and causing to him clutch at the wall for support.
[Raziel] *raises an eyebrow at the blue wolf holding his boot* Err- Blue? While I appreciate the balance practice, I could just remove the gem if you wanted to have a look-see?
[BlueSky] How weird! *she says, not listening* The Aer crystals that Krauzer uses for the wind element are yellow!
[Raziel] *sighs, realising heās going to have to balance until she puts him down.* Oh really? I wonder how they differ in power or quality?
[BlueSky] Oh I wouldn't know, I'm not good with all that technical stuff you know? I just sort of go with it.
[Raziel] *laughs.* Yeah thatās probably for the best, less headaches that way...*He patiently waits for Blue to put his foot down* Errr Blue? Would you kindly let go of my foot please?
[BlueSky] Hmm? Oh right! Sorry! *She quickly lets go awkwardly laughing* Hahaā¦ still not got that whole space thing down.
[Raziel] *smiles.* Itās no problem. *He pulls out his Tome from his satchel, opening to a page in the midde, his finger tracing down the book.* I wonder what I did wrong? I think I need to have another crack at thisā¦. *He suddenly stops mid-sentence, his finger lingering over a line in the Tome.* Ooooh! Thatās why that happenedā¦*He snaps the book shut* Care to watch and see this either go well or painfully?
[BlueSky] Well Iād rather you not hurt yourself, so I guess someone should watch in case you do.
[Raziel] *He chuckles.* Much obliged, although this should not go as poorly as the last timeā¦ Hopefullyā¦.
Raziel makes his way back to his starting point again, but this time taking five steps back. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a brown crystal and flipping it between his fingers.
BlueSky clambers up into a nearby tree, balancing on the end of branch, ready to leap down if needed.
[BlueSky] Try not to hit the wall again! * She shouts down.*
Raziel looks up to Blue and gives her a thumbs up, before looking dead on into the forest again. He taps the green crystals in his boots for luck before breaking into a run towards the treeās.
About halfway to his initial starting point he shouts an incantation and a bright light shines from his boots. His speed suddenly increasing to an unnatural level, but he manages to stay in control. Upon hitting the starting point he lands on both feet and jumps, the spell sending him flying across into the trees.
Blue watches with interest, ears perking up as Raziel speeds up, then flattening again as he launches himself towards the forest. She winces at the crash and quickly jumps from tree to tree to make sure he was alright.
Raziel groans as he gets up, his body aches but but he couldnāt help but laugh at the āhimā-shaped indent in the oak directly in front. The spell has worked and has successfully launched him forward into the air, however he had forgotten any means to either control his landing or to slow down. Luckily an earth crystal and a large oak had been there for an emergency stop.
Blue follows the trail of broken branches, making a mental note to tend to the trees later, especially the one Raz had collided with. She gives quick a concerned glance at the trunk, before she hurries to Razās side.
[BlueSky] Are you okay? That was still pretty fast for someone so new at this.
[Raziel] *turns and smiles at Blue, stretching various muscles.* Err yeahā¦ yeah! Iām great! I mean a bit of surprise tree attack but I think Iām good enough to- *At this point Raziel stretches his back and a loud crunch can be heard emanating from his body, he freezes in place from the pain.*
[BlueSky] Oh! Um, erā¦ this is, fine! Letās just, ahhā¦ *She nervously hovers around Raz, unsure whether she should grab him, not grab him, leave him standing or have him sit back down. She falls back on her go-to solution.* Letās ummā¦ go find Nights. I mean, if you can walk. I can go! Iāll be very quick!
[Raziel] *speaks through gritted teeth, very slowly moving his body to face Blue.* Good...Plan. You go..Firstā¦.Iāll followā¦*He turns to the opening of the forest, but doesnāt move any further.*ā¦.On second thought, best bring her to me.
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Communication is important, long-distance even more so! Raziel has an idea, and Nights is there to help him!
Starring: Raziel and Nights
Warnings: none
Crystals glow a gentle green, filling the room with an ambient light. Itās a late night at the castle, crystals of various shapes, sizes and colours cover Razielās desk as he runs through the pages of his Tome, his eyes glued onto the pages as his hand turns the pages, the other holding it steady in front of him.
The tome in front of him is filled with magic and secrets, but had one feature that makes it differ from other magic books. All mageās of Caelum had this tome, but its weight and pages would differ depending on the mage, their knowledge and power would unlock more secrets within it and only the greatest of them would see the book in its entirety. Even greater ones actually had a chance to add to it.
Raziel turns one last page, finally finding what he is looking for. On it lay the designs of earrings and rings, a shining yellow gem always part of its design.
The night air whistles through the castle, winds quietly picking up leaves and throwing them at windows. But over the noise the creaking of floorboards can be heard. Steel capped boots tap on the floor underneath Raziel as Nights works away as the moon crests the sky. But the steady hammering stops and only moments later she appears in the doorway of Razielās lab, quietly knocking on the glass of his doors.
[Raziel] *looks up briefly at the sound of knocking, taking a moment to register what is was before returning his attention to the Tome.* Doorās open, Come on in.
Nights steps in quietly as the door creaks opens, approaching the table Raziel is at slowly as to not disturb whatever magic she canāt see.
[Nights] You are up late, what are you working on?
[Raziel] *ās hands hover over two crystals amongst the pile, both bright yellow and a large light glowing from both of them, he recites an incantation and the lights in both leave the crystals and enter the opposing oneās. He looks up and smiles at Nights.* On a few things to be fair, but the one right now might be of particular use to us at the Castle. You can help me test it if you would like?
[Nights] Iā¦ Do not think you would wish me to try to wield magic. It tends to go very poorly.
She shuffles closer, being cautious of the crystals scattered around the room and on desks.
[Raziel] *smiles reassuringly.* I assure you these are not dangerous and should cause no discomfort should the spell fail. *Raziel reaches for the two yellow crystals on his desk, keeping one in his right hand and extending his left with the other crystal to Nights.* One of the perks of this style of magic, anyone can technically use them once they are charged, but only a gem mage can power and manipulate what they do.
*Nights reaches out cautiously taking the crystal from Raziel, looking mildly uncomfortable while holding it careful with her gloved hand, turning it over with her fingers, testing its weight.*
[Nights] You are sure?
[Raziel] *nods.* Yes Iām positive, no harm will come to you. *He quickly looks at his Tome one last time, before closing it shut on his desk.* On top of this, the spell needs a strong bond between its users. Youāve given me a home and saved my life so Iām pretty sure that counts for something right?.
[Nights] I suppose.
*Raziel stands out of his chair and walks to the opposite end of the room, facing against Nights.*
[Raziel] Now, hold the crystal to your head and repeat these words: āLinimo Deociisā.
Nights shifts, unsure why she came up to stretch in the mage wing.
[Nights] Linimo Deociis. *She butchers the words, but it her words sound more like she is trying to speak angelic, the words twisting as she struggles to say them.*
Both Crystals light up briefly before returning to normal.
-Note to readers. Words surrounded in ~ is a telepathic connection and not said out loud, but is spoken-
[Raziel] *ās voice can be heard, but it's almost like an echo in the room, his mouth not moving ~Alright that should have worked~ *He clears his throat*. ~Can you hear me clearly on your end?~
Nights is searching Raziel's face. His mouth isnāt moving but she can hear himā¦ but it is like a whisper though a bad radio signal. Full of static. Her mind races in confusion, accidentally flooding the connection with thoughts to fast to understand to anyone but her. She frowns looking down at the crystal then back up at Raz.
[Nights] What was that? ~The nether was that, how does this work, what is going on, can I hear him but he does not make sound, does this crystal send signals, is this safe, what if the State has this, is this magic or something else?~
[Raziel] ~Calm down Nights, youāre perfectly fine. *He waves at her, pointing at the crystal.* Whatās happening right now is a low level Ā telepathy spell, allowing people to speak in privacy or to get hold of each other from long distance. The translation for the spell can be summed up as āconnect the mind of alliesā.~
*Nightsā face scrunches into confusion and concentration as she realizes he can hear her thoughts.*
[Nights] So you are telling meā¦ ~...you can hear my thoughtsā¦~ and.. Urg, can barely hear ~yours~? *She keeps looking down at the crystal and back up, it looks like sheās having trouble keeping her internal dialog from spilling forth. Itās odd to hear her inner voice. Itās free of the cough she periodically has, or the roughness that clouds her normal voice. Itās sharp, and surprisingly young.*
[Raziel] Ā ~ Itās looking that way ~ ...huh. *He looks at the crystal, rolling it about in his hands, before opening the tome back to the page he was originally looking at, running through the next few pages* For some reason the link is strong initially, but a maintained connection seems difficult...so an initial message can be sent but nothing else, I canāt find anything explaining why though...
[Nights] A.. Magic user might have better use of this technology then I do. I would rather use my radioā¦ *She says out loud, sheās trying to keep her mind clear, but she worries of what he can see in her mind if he can read her thoughts. She turns the crystal over then lifts it to the light to look through it.*
[Raziel] You may have a point there, still an interesting experience. *He places the crystal down on his desk, waving his hand over it. The crystals bright light dims down*...Also whatās a radio?
[Nights] Something similar to this thing,*She says as she places the crystal down on the table beside her and then leans on the table.* But works through electronic waves through the air and runs on electricity. *She says is rather matter of factly as she pulls from her pocket a small black box with an antenna and several dials next to a small screen with numbers on it.*
[Raziel] I see, interesting... *He smiles and nods, knowing that any further explanation would probably just confuse him further.* Well Iām gonna guess thisāll work better than my crystal plan. *He points to the small black box in nights hands.* Care to make me one? Or teach me how to?
[Nights] I think I have an extra I can rig to work. Should be simple, would be more work showing you how to work it howeverā¦. Electricity and all.
She says in amusement seeing the lights still off in the lab.
[Raziel] Good point andā¦ Well made! *He laughs and scratches the back of his head.* But still, I thank you for your help with that experiment.
[Nights] You're welcome. It was an interesting break from my work. *She smiles as she hears a caw echo through the halls of the castle. Feno, sitting on his stand has woken up and found she is no longer sitting at her desk. Nights simply rolls her eyes as she hears him panic as she turns to leave.* Pardon, Feno seems to have panicked himself again.
[Nights] *pauses before she leaves*. I hope you are getting along with your crow as wellā¦ *She smiles before disappearing into the dark hallways.
At this point Dante flies through the window, landing on Razielās head and pecks him.
Raziel tries to improve his marksmanship with less than great results, luckily thereās help nearby.
Starring; Raziel and Lartin
Warnings: none
An arrow flies through the air, aimed at the centre of a target. It misses, hitting the board but off to itās right. Raziel curses under his breath at his fourth arrow being off, he isnāt great with long range weaponry but he is never this bad. His time in recovery made him even worse with his archery than it did with a sword.
[Raziel] Come on, if you canāt hit a target properly with a normal arrow then the custom ones have no useā¦
He tries again, pulling an arrow from his quiver. He pulls, aims directly down lane and released his 5th arrow. Once again it hits the board, but this time veering off to the left. He growls and his grip on his new bow tightens.
[Raziel] *stares at the bow.* You will do as you are told or I swear to whatever deity is on this plane I will turn you into firewood!!
Lartin is sitting on a fence to the side, chuckling as he watches Raziel miss and get more frustrated with each shot.
[Lartin] Come on itās not even moving, how can you be that bad?
[Raziel] *turns around at the sound of his unexpected guest.* Honestly I wish I knew! I wasnāt an expert marksman back home but I could at least hit a bullseye on a still target. Iāve seen goblins be better crack shots than me at this pointā¦
He sighs, before turning back to his target board, pulling another arrow from his quiver.
[Lartin] *cups his hands round his mouth* Feet square, shoulders back, and donāt tense up, itās shooting a bow, itās not building an Accipiter. All else fails we move it closer and give you a different bow.
[Raziel] *attempts to adjust his posture at Lartins advice, his back straight but still looking a bit tight* Like this?
[Lartin] *hops off the fence and walks up to Raziel.* If I may? Youāre still a little tense. *Mimicking the stance, his arms in line with his shoulders.* See, Iām in the stance but my shoulders havenāt hunched and tightened. Now once more and let us see.
[Raziel] Wow, I look that tense?... Alright one moment. *He takes a deep breath,shakes on the spot for a bit before attempting to imitate Lartin.* Any better?
Lartin smiles.
[Lartin] Much better, try now.
Raziel pulls back the bow, looking at the centre of the target. He releases the string, the arrow flying straight down the lane, finally hitting its target.
[Raziel] *His shoulders slump and he laughs.* Finally! I can hit a bullseye again! Waitā¦ *He quickly pulls another arrow, draws and fires. Once again it hits the centre* Sorryā¦ Had to double check. *He turns to Lartin.* Thanks for the advice.
[Lartin] No problem, so why use a bow? Guns are a bit easier to use and much more accurate.
[Raziel] *looks up for a moment, thinking.* ...Two reasons actually. First off, I feel like a Ā bow is more my style; more elegant. Guns feel so...uncivilised, to me at least... And my second reason. *He grins as he pulls out two arrows from his quiver, they look almost identical to the last few heās fired but one major difference. The metal tips have been replaced with a red crystal, shaped into a pointed tip.* I can make these with my magic for anyone to use, care to have a try?
Lartin is slightly hesitant, grabbing a bow off the rack he approaches the line and takes an arrow, nocking it on the string he takes his stance and draws back.
[Lartin] So what does it do?
[Raziel] Nothing too fancy. *He points to the top emphasis the difference.* These are fire crystal tip arrows, harmless right now but with the right spell and upon hitting its target can make something go āboomā or at the least go up in flames.
Lartin releases the string, the force whipping the arrow into the air and hits the target with a strong thud.
[Lartin] Looks like it didnātā¦. *A sudden burst of fire explodes out from the arrow and covers the target.*
[Raziel] *cheers upon seeing the target go up in flames, laughing and clapping his hands* Success! Genuinely had myself worried for a moment that that wasnāt going to work.
[Lartin] Damn they pack a punch, what I'd have given for a clip of those back in the day.
[Raziel] Glad to hear you approve, Iām working on a variety of these for different situationsā¦*He pauses for a moment* You mentioned about making some for a firearm? Itād take some work and research but I could look into making some for your piece?
[Lartin] I haven't used a gun for an actual purpose in awhile, other than hunting. But I can always make the casings for it and I just need the crystals to use as tips. Only issue would be the airspeed of the bullet, I'd need to test if it would set off the magic midflight.
[Raziel] Should be easy enough to doā¦ Well then! Lets try and make some, you know, for scientific reasons of course!
[Lartin] Hopefully no one minds bullets that explode on contact.
[Raziel] As long as theyāre not on the receiving end, I shouldnāt see why theyād mind
Lartin smirks, looking at the arrows.
[Lartin] In that case Iāll start on making the casings and you can supply the crystals.
[Raziel] Sounds like a plan to meā¦. *A sudden growl is heard.* But before any of that happens, Iām grabbing food! *He starts making his way back to the castle.* Good talk Lartin! Come grab me when you're ready!
The Mothermenās trip to the Silo begins. Ā Perhaps not quite in the way everyone involved may have assumedā¦
Starring: C_K; S_R; R_V
Warnings: Threats
Departure of the Mothermen team from Fairco had historically been an event of some ceremony. Ā Captain W_A was always very keen on āshowing support to your boys. What with us keeping you all safe and snug down in here.ā Ā
S_R had put a stop to that. They have a fucking job to do, and it wasnāt running a damn parade.
The current preparations are more of a circus than he is happy with, but he has to admit that the chaos isā¦ less than it might have been. Ā Arranging field kits for seven people ā the three Mothermen themselves, and four AGRIs ā as well as Reclamation gear, weapons and camp-rolls should, by all experiences he had had so far in this damn place, have been an abject nightmare to achieve.
Yet this time S_R finds himself bizarrely unopposed. Requisitions completed. Ā Maintenance checks done, in a timely fashion. Paperwork actually filled in.
It is weird. Ā And unsettlinglyā¦ welcome.
Most of the little group is now congregated just outside the main door, carefully passing out packs and distributing equipment. Ā The AGRIs arenāt new to this sort of work, but itās infrequent enough that there is an unconcealed air of excitement about them, and S_R ignores the snatches of conversation that rumble on around him, predicting riches and possible treasures. It isnāt riches he expects to find in that chlorinated tomb, unless bleached, rotting concrete really does it for you. Ā But they donāt know that. Donāt need to know that.
The small canister containing Halsteadās damn battery seems to weigh unaccountably heavily against his side, shoved deep into one uniform pocket, and S_R tries to shakes off the leaden mood as he looks up towards the non-haulage parts of the team.
[S_R] You carry your own fucking kit. Ā So you might want to get to picking one.
R_V takes a deep breath and takes the step from cold metal onto the grass just outside. He strides towards the equipment in a pile by the Captain, making a point of nudging past his injured arm to collect a rucksack and sling it over his shoulder.
[R_V] Are you sure you donāt need someone to carry your kit too, Captain? You know, after the accident you had in the gym you should have more issue than usual.
He smirks and turns from the group to see the world outside of the Facility; the smirk quickly turns into a frown as his eyes dart from trees to plants to lake.
[R_V] Regardless, we should be on our way. Try not to hold us up too much Captain - see to it that he doesn't, hmm, C_K?
Forest green eyes narrow at the former astronaut as he purposefully brushes past the Captainās injured arm. For the moment C_K say nothings. Merely adding it to the mental list of lashes to take out of R_Vās hide later. There would most certainly be a later. Gaze lowering, he picks up one of the packs and briefly checks through it. There is no doubt in his mind that S_R would have gone through them and checked at least five times, but his Captain had taught him to be thorough. And so he was going to check until satisfied.
[C_K] The Captainās arm is well on the way to recovery. I for one am impressed.
A slight raise of his eyebrows but soon followed by a docile little smile, cocking his head slightly to one side as he pats R_V on the shoulder in a friendly manner.*
[C_K] But be assured Iāll keep an eye on him. With your good self on our team, Iām sure weāll get there in no time.
Heās pleased that manages to sound genuine, despite the bile rising at the mere sight of the man.*
R_V glances at his shoulder and back to C_K, his scowl quickly becoming a grin after the compliment.
[R_V] Your medical knowledge may be lacking, I am however impressed by your optimism C_K, and rightfully so.
Another smug, chrome smile breaks out across his face as he places his hands on his hips just as he posed for his posters as he addresses the AGRI-Wards, a brief glance at S_R also..
[R_V] Well then, no time like the present - keep close to the Mothermen Extraction Unit at all times, do not attempt to flee, failure to comply will result in injury or expiration.
[Sage] No worryinā Commander. Done this sorta thing before. We gotcha!
She lightly cuffs R_V on the arm, grinning broadly.
[Sage] Though if yer offerinā tāstay close, I aināt sayinā no.
[S_R] If youāve quite finished?
He glares daggers at R_V as he grabs the nearest pack, swinging it into place with minimal difficulty. That he totally hasnāt been practising. At all.
[S_R] Weāll hit the first waypoint around noon. Ā R_V, since youāre so fucking keen to show off, you can put your muscle where your mouth is and take a Rec bag as well.
R_V bends down at the pile again, slinging another bag over his shoulder. He stands again with arms held out, taunting S_R.
[R_V] Why of course Captain, you certainly wonāt be able to carry it. In a way me carrying more will help you heal. It was lifting that injured you in the first place, after all.
He again glances from his arm and this time to Sage, he gives the woman a look of disgust.
[R_V] Close, S_G. Not that close.
Sage shrugs.
[Sage] Suit yerself. *She grabs a couple of packs, turning back to the AGRI group, and another amused rumble runs the circuit*.
[S_R] I am very aware of what āinjuredā me. *His free hand twitches a little, but he swallows whatever other retort was rising, and his expression cools again.*
[S_R] Right. Letās get this over with.
-
The journey falls into routine quickly. Ā S_R or C_K lead, familiar as they are with the route through the canyons and trackways that surround Fairco; one at the head of the party and one at the rear, swapping periodically with a brief exchange of update. Ā Mismatched stares of forest-green and black amber rove constantly; observing, watching. Wary even in this known path. The AGRI group are far less cautious - chatting, joking, occasionally stopping to grab handfuls of recognised weeds or herbs and stuff them into waiting pockets - but other than a few sharp rebukes when they get too loud, S_R mostly ignores this.
They reach the first waypoint indeed a little after noon. Itās a natural clearing in the woodlands either side, where thin soil and slabs of weathered surface rock have held back the trees, and there is a smooth stone set into the ground in the centre. Man-high, clad thickly with moss, and with unfamiliar symbols half-visible beneath the green layer.
S_R eyes the distinctly un-State marker with a faint flicker of something approaching discomfort. A reminder, that this borderland area was always at the very edge of Motherās sight, and nowā¦ Ā He shakes off the mood and turns back to the group. The AGRIs have settled down, unwrapping the first of their ration packs, and S_R catches C_Kās eye; nodding.
Now.
[S_R] Commander. Time for another line on your arm: Recruitment posts.
[R_V] Recruitment posts, Captain? Is that how you ended up here? Random squabble amongst the wild? The quality shows.
S_Rās teeth grit and he leans in a little closer, dropping his voice slightly.
[S_R] You might think this is all a big joke, space-boy, but if I have to drag. You. Screaming. Into being a damned competent officer, then I fucking will.
[S_R] Now.
[S_R] Monitoring recruitment posts is going to be something youād better get real interested in, really quickly. Because scraping starved Wards off branded landscape is very fucking dull.
R_V raises his brows briefly and smirks at S_R, hands behind his back he stands to attention.
[R_V] Competence and compliant are two things I learned to be way before the rank of officer Captain, perhaps this explains you - again.
R_V throws the bags he was carrying against the foot of a tree, kneeling down carefully beside them to retrieve a ration pack.
[R_V] Regardless Captain - this task shall be trivial.
[S_R] Then it should suit you completely.
C_K has been watching over proceedings with a keen gaze. Following his Captainās orders silently and constantly, but subtly, checking over R_V and planning how to do this. They already have something set in stone, but plans change and the Ward is still very unsure of R_V. The man could be capable of anything. As soon as the former astronautās back is turned, C_Kās demeanour changes dramatically. Slipping from docile and compliant to something predatory. His movements are fluid and almost cat-like as he moves over to where Oak is sat (the large Agri who had taken a shine to him at the Blue Moon Ball) and retrieves the bag he needs, with a smile that was more of a baring of teeth than anything pleasant.*
[C_K] The Captain and I will be showing the new recruit how to monitor the Recruitment posts. You and Sage can keep an eye on things, yeah?
The large Agriward grins widely and pats C_K hard on the back before affectionately ruffling his hair. Something C_K kind of wishes he hadnāt done, butā¦ He supposes itās an Agri thing.*
[O_K] Donā you worry, Seekay. Iām good at watchinā.
A brief smile that is gentler than the one before.*
[C_K] Good.
A nod, before that predatory grace is back and he moves to stand at S_Rās injured left side, slightly behind. Shoulders rolled back and standing to attention. Waiting.*
[S_R] Right, letās get this farce moving again.
He strides off into the treeline, making for a trodden-in path amongst the undergrowth. Not as flat as the road, and with whip-like fronds of this yearās growth edging in from the sides. Ā
R_V follows, brushing vines and loose leaves and branches from his path with a look of disgust on his face.
The small clearing falls away behind them and is soon lost in the blur of trees. Ā There are few animal noises on the main road - a party with AGRIs in it does not lend well to stealth or naturalism - but with the three Mothermen alone, moving carefully, rustles and small sounds come back, filtering towards them as they walk.
R_V nervously glances around at each chirp of a bird or snap of a twig underfoot, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of a small dagger he carries with him on his belt.
[R_V] Quite a trek for a recruitment post is it not Brothers, amongst all these hideous trees - Tell me what kind of people do you expect to find around here?
[S_R] If weāre lucky? None. The last fucking thing we need is to be dragging some gibbering wreckage around with us. Ā Present company excluded, for professional courtesy.
He ducks under a low-hanging branch, letting it go behind him close enough to waft past R_Vās face.
[S_R] Wards, mostly. The broadcasts go out with co-ordinates, same as on the posters. And whatever flyover littering drops Hawkins has done recently. The Civs have fucked off, on the whole, or got their acts together a long way away from here, and Citizens are Mister Fairfaxās problem right up until theyāre ours.
He glances back at R_V, sneering.
[S_R] So wasnāt it nice for you we pulled you out of that shithole directly? Ā Or youād have been hanging around in these āhideous treesā...
[R_V] I would much rather bring back a Brother or Sister of the Chain that have to suffer another moment of conversation with a Citizen -
R_V trips over a loose root and stumbles forward, he disguises his fall by swiftly kicking the top off a nearby mushroom and glancing at the others.
[R_V] I may find the outdoorsā¦ disgusting, but I would have survived without your so called assistance - Iām not so sure about Mr. Vesalius however.
[S_R] While Iām not sure you can die from a lack of moustache wax - I think we have to agree on that.
C_K follows the other two silently, keeping one ear on the bickering - making sure his Captain isnāt being too antagonistic; yet - while the rest of his attention strays this way and that, drawn by the rustling in their surroundings. Ā Heās quite aware that out of the three of them, he is the only one who actually enjoys spending time outside the FACās walls, the only one whose glances after nearby scuttling noises is from curiosity, rather than wariness. Ā He likes these trips. Ā And this particular one has been coming for a while...
The small group continues for about ten more minutes, taking the occasional side track. There is no signposting here now, no visible landmarks past the shading autumn patchwork of the trees. No obvious path back to the road, if you didnāt already know the way.
It is - in short - perfect.
S_R stops, grunts, and lets his pack slide to the floor. Ā He tightens his free hand against his bound arm and grimaces slightly with apparent pain.
R_V looks around at the thick woodland around them, looking out for a road or path or clearing, finding none.
[R_V] Well this seems like the perfect spot to set up a watchpost. If a poor Citizen were to find themselves out here theyād never survive before we got to them. Itād make our job a lot easier.
[S_R] Oh, it does.
There is a click; a soft, metal noise that nonetheless manages to cut across every other sound in the clearing, and an abrupt point of threatening pressure settles against the back of R_Vās head. Ā When S_R speaks again, the earlier strain has gone from his voice, replaced with liquid threat.
[S_R] Donāt move, Commander. Ā Twitch, or try anything - anything - and Iāll blow your brains all over this wretched clearing. Ā Weāre in the ass end of nowhere. Ā No witnesses; no chalked-up leeches to tattle on my misdeeds. Ā
R_V freezes in place, tensing his body, he clenches his fists and growls before raising his hands slowly, defeated after thinking about the gun to his head.
[S_R] I could kill you now, right where you stand, and I swear on Motherās rotting heart itās a tempting fucking option.
[S_R] But.
The Captainās other hand - freed from the brace that now lies discarded on the leafy floor - jerks up, bunching his gloved fingers roughly in R_Vās hair, and pulls the bigger manās head back more firmly against the pistol barrel. Ā S_R leans forward, the closeness of the raised threat only slightly diminished by the fact that heās speaking into R_Vās shoulder rather than his ear.
[S_R] You want to be a Motherman, Arr-Vee? Ā Then youāre going to fucking learn when, and when not, to throw that bulk around. On. My. Orders.
[S_R] So. In the spirit of camaraderie, Brotherhood, and all that other rancid garbage you lap right up - I have a test for you.
C_K becomes as still as a statue. Eyes sharp as cut emeralds as he simply watches his Captain grapple with the taller man. The only movement for the moment a twitch of his lips into a slight smirk when S_R is not quite tall enough to make his movements as dramatic as he clearly desires. A sigh and a roll of his eyes as the brace is dropped to the ground. Movements liquid as he steps forward without fear and ducks down to pick up the brace. Turning slightly to S_R as he speaks in a lowered tone and with narrowed eyes*
[C_K] If you fuck up your Chain-Damned arm just because you wanted to be a melodramatic little shit, I will be displeased, Sir.
He steps back and turns swiftly on his heel to walk around the two men until he is facing R_V. His smile wide and welcoming, but there is something vicious in his eyes. Spiteful.
[C_K] Doing okay there, brother? I really wouldnāt move, heās not kidding, you know. I wouldnāt call our esteemed Captain trigger happy, but heās a man of his word.
R_V looks sickly white with fear. Ā He glares at C_K as the man approaches, his body still stiffly locked in place and then begins to nervously laugh.
[R_V] You know I think you might be right for once Brother C_K. Ā Now tell me S_R - is the bullet with my name on it even in the chamber? I doubt it is - if I recall I remember seeing it tucked neatly into that little ammo pouch of yours -
R_V slowly lowers his left hand to remove the small knife from his belt, tossing it to the ground in front of C_K, his pale smirk now faded he carefully presses his legs together tightly to conceal the small dagger hilt in his boot.
[R_V] Since I donāt really have a choice Iāll entertain this game or test or whatever you want to call it Captain, spit it out.
S_R laughs, but just once. Ā A low, rough single bark of something only slightly akin to amusement.
[S_R] You think Iāve only made one bullet for you? Ā R_V, youāve got a whole fucking clip.
[S_R] Now, youāre going to walk slowly over to that big - *a pause, only slight, as a flick of uncertainty enters S_Rās voice* - ā...beech tree - ā
[C_K] *mutters, under his breath* Thatād be an oak, Captain.
[S_R] ...big tree over there, and get your back against it.
R_V lets out a quick laugh at C_Kās correction before turning quickly to face S_R. Ā The barrel of the gun presses against his forehead.
[R_V] Smart man, youāll need more than one bullet Captain.
R_Vās face is expressionless, he lingers for a moment staring down S_R before slowly walking backwards to the tree, finally pressing his back against it.
S_Rās teeth grind together audibly. Ā It would be nice if the overgrown moron could scrape together brains enough to look worried when he had a fucking gun to his head. Ā He locks gaze with the bigger man, black amber on unearthly-blue, and thereās a gravity in his fingers, as if the trigger beneath his touch is hauling itself backwards.
Itās easy. Ā He knows itās easy. Ā Heās pulled this same damn trigger enough times. Ā He -
The rasp of failing mechanical tones; harsh and skipping like a Citizenās broken record player, but still damnably clear enough.
I would - have looked you - in the eyes, Commander...ā
S_R jerks slightly as the memory breaks, trying to cover his slip with a snarl.
[S_R] C_K. Rope. Now.
There is a moment in which C_K looks worried. Glancing over at S_R as his Captain seems to malfunction for a second. A brief furrow of his brow before he is lowering his head and hooding his eyes; the expression vanishing. He is very carefully blank. Something that his Captain would recognise, but hopefully R_V will not notice.*
[C_K] Yes, Captain. Right away, Sir.
His tone is as yielding as his body language. A Good Ward following the orders of his superior. His gaze almost glassy as he approaches R_V, unravelling the ropes between his hands. There is a slight edge of guilt piercing his chest for correcting S_R about the tree. They need to be a unified team, he canāt be seen to be insubordinate.*
[C_K] Hold still, kidā¦ Would hate to have to ruin the glamour of all those posters of yours.
[R_V] Very good little dog, follow your master's orders.
R_V leans slightly into C_Kās neck as he wraps the rope around him, a wicked smile on his face. Ā With his eyes fixated on S_R over C_Kās shoulder still, he whispers in his ear.
[R_V] I really do hope the good Captain here has taught you how to properly tie a knot. You wouldnāt like to see what might happen - orā¦ would you, hmm?
R_V leans back again resting his head against the bark of the tree, one eyebrow now raised as his gaze was now on the man in front of him.
[C_K] ~Whoops.~
The Ward jerks on of the ropes so it slips from around R_Vās chest to his throat. A slight tug to give the impression that he wouldnāt be above choking him for the fun of it. Tight enough to make breathing uncomfortable if not impossible. The risk of rope burn present if he struggled.
[C_K] With all due respect, Sirā¦
The word Sir spoken like it is filth coating his tongue. With none of the awe it had held when directed at S_R*
[C_K] You harm him again, not even Mother Herself could save you from me
The ropes are tightened and knotted. Bound by his hands, torso and throat. C_K gives a wide grin and pats R_Vās cheek before sauntering back over to his Captain*
R_V squirms uncomfortably, trying to ease the pressure of the rope against his neck and hands. Ā Angrily he stares down the two smaller Wards and spits on the ground in their direction, rather than risk trying to speak.
S_R keeps the gun pointed at R_V for a few more seconds, focusing on the welcome sight of that damn face twisted in discomfort for once. Ā Bringing himself back to now, back to here. Ā Heād seen C_Kās glance, knew the man had noticed his own lapse, butā¦ he could live with that. Ā As long as R_V hadnāt.
When heās confident enough that his hand wonāt shake while he does it, S_R holsters the weapon, and gives R_V one last, withering glance.
[S_R] Now, be a good little lickspittle and try not to throttle yourself until we get back. Ā If anyoneās going to choke you, Iād like it to be me -
S_R stops, glaring aside as he hears the muttered āoh really, Captain?ā from C_K, then continues.
[S_R] Now, youāve got a nice, long time to think about your position in this unit R_V. Ā I suggest you think real fucking hard about where your loyalties lie.
[S_R] Have a good couple of days, Commander.
[S_R] And hope we donāt find ourselvesā¦ delayed.
With that, the two free Mothermen pick up their packs, and head back the way they came.
Fic backstory for @thefalloficarus and his RP character Cassius. Which doesnāt actually have Cassius himself in it at all, and is instead Morrigan and Vachan having a dinner date and being sarcastic about State eugenics programmes. Because of course.
(Also thank you @aj-hateley and @maxilius for borrowing some bits from their Ministry stuff!)
Title: Witness Statement
Setting: Fairco backstory.
Warnings: Discussion of executions (hanging, burning); discussion of eugenics.
Summary: Vachan and Morrigan discuss failures and scapegoats.
Characters: Dr Vachan; Morrigan Stewart (āThe Auditorā)
Words: 1824
_____
Curls of sickly black smoke rise into the midday sky, thinning and spreading untilĀ lost against the trailing clouds overhead, leaving nothing but a half-imagined fevered pallor to the air. Ā I watch them spiral up from behind the grey-and-glass angles of the City, from the square where the Trees stand, and I shiver.
Todayās burnings are brought to you by the Ministry of Blood.
Perhaps I have been listening to the wireless too much in recent weeks, because the replicated saccharine-cheer of Approved Advertising is a little too quick to frame my thoughts. I cover my discomfort with a glance away from the window.
āSomething amiss, Doctor?ā
Morrigan hasnāt even looked up, but I know very well that there is no point in lying to my dining companion.Ā
In which Isabel crosses paths with a Fairco convoy led by Matis Phelan.
Warnings: gagging
* They had hoped to have arrived before the rain came, but luck was not on their side.
*Puddles forms quickly on the hardened path they travel, soaking the toes of their boots. Heads down; hair flattened against their heads underneath dark rain capes. There is light on the horizon. The settlement is only several more kilometers away but for the small group of Breathers, it would mean at least one more hour of cold, dark, rainy misery with no chance of finding appropriate shelter to wait for the rain to stop.
*Lieutenant Matis Phelanās eyes are fixed on the road, leading the group of five; rifle at hand; kept dry underneath his coat. One of his men is new to this journey. The poor health of the previous one exempted them; this time; yet Matisā own ragged breath and slightly limping gait did not surpass their set health-standard by much.
* He stops and glances over his shoulder. Only the lower part of his face; from the haggard scar by his nose and lip; was still vaguely visible in the faint light they had.
[Matis] Keep up.
* The rain runs in rivulets across the broken tarmac, pushed apart by root and weed in this untenanted hinterland of the State. Just ahead of the group, set back slightly into the treeline, the lights of small waxen candles in green bottles flicker. One of the Breathers, bent low by the cold, flinches suddenly at a line of spider silk on his wet face. There is the smell, faint, but definite, of smoke and saffron.
*Matis squints at the sight of the lights ahead. He has travelled this road several times before but these lights were unfamiliar to him. Other travelers, however, are to be expected. The closer they come, the stronger the scent. There is no way around it, unless through high, yellowed wild grass. His men are tired and his own muscles ache with cold.
[Matis] Stay on the path. ...Heads down, mouths shut.
*He hears muffled confirmations coming from his men, most in the form of āYes, sir.ā. Matisā cold hands remain on his rifle and hears the faint chinking sound of his rosary chain against the metal barrel with each step as they approach the lights on the side of the road with no intention of stopping.
*Ahead, rain hisses on a tiny, smoking campfire. The breath of the wind takes the fragile, guttering flame and casts a thin wash of light on the dripping bowers of trees, and a shape; a dark bundle of cloth that sits on the edge of a painted wagonās step. A wrought iron kettle sits amid the embers.
*Hunger and cold lure the hindmost Breather, the newcomer in their party, closer and closer to the flames and the prospect of some food or a warm drink. He stops. Out of breath. He takes one step closer but flinches at the loud snort of a black draft horse he had not noticed in the even darker shadow of the wagon. The others havenāt noticed his stalling just yet.
*The bundle on the step twists, pulling bare toes closer, staring at the glistering, rubber rain-caped figure. Isabel stands and unhoods, apprehensively. Her hair is white, though she is youthful.
[Isabel] ā¦ Good eveningā¦ Oh. Ah! are you a man of Mother? Come out of the rain, chou! Here is dry enough. You are welcome at my fireside.
* The Breather glances from the young woman to the others. He could now see the second to last of his colleagues had noticed his disappearance and turns to look. The rest halts as well. Hesitant eyes focus back on Isabel and her inviting campfire.
[Breather N_H] Iā¦. I should not dallyā¦ The settlement is nearā¦
*Isabel steps onto the wet, yellowed grass. The oil paint on her wagon shines in the firelight. Flowers, horses, roses and thorns.
[Isabel] But they wonāt mind, chou! Iāve seen your uniforms before. They donāt burn on the fire! I knowā¦ And the knee pad, it tears so easily, mmm? Oh, chou, how long has it been since you starched that collar? Here. I know. Iāll stitch your rips and embroider your name on your cape. It wonāt cost much. It is but two letters, isnāt it?
* His eyes follow hers down to the small rip at his knee pad. It is hardly noticeable in the dark, pouring rain with only the flickering light of the hissing fire and dancing candles in coloured bottles. His fingers then glide over the sleeve of his uniform, underneath his raincoat, where he had noticed a loose thread earlierā¦
[Breather N_H] Are y-ā¦
*His sentence remains unfinished and makes way for a sharp, painful gasp as the butt of Matisā rifle pushes between his shoulder blades. He stumbles for two steps, panting. In this weather, even a Breather could sneak up on someone, unnoticed. The others have gathered around as well. Matis does not speak but his lowered brow and cold stare make his statement perfectly clear. āKeep walkingā.
*Isabel gasps. She takes a pace back from Matis. The Breather staggers on, and she watches him strain for a single pained breath, fumbling for the oxygen mask at his neck. Her eyes turn to Matis, and she pushes a wet white ribbon of hair behind her ears, nervously.
[Isabel] ā¦ Chou-fleurā¦ How may I help you? Let me see.
*Her eyes flit to, and then away from, the untidy knit of scar that divides his upper lip. Her voice is less assured, and she is uncertain.
[Isabel] ā¦ Would you notā¦ Care to rest a while? I said to your manā¦ Uhm. Well, you are all welcomeā¦ I can repair your things - Perhaps see to the little tears thatā¦ Well, itās certain you will have some, chou. You can put your fingers straight through those uniforms, they boil them and pass them ā¦ nh, I heard, some of the shirts are thirty years old...
*With the youngest Breather now wheezing into his oxygen mask at the front of the group, the others now linger around the wagon like a pack of starving wolves. But each of them remains close to Matis; not wanting to be next in line for a hard shove between the shoulders. None speak.
*Matisā eyes are narrowed. Being taller than Isabel, he looks down on her but ignores her offerings. His attention is drawn to her wagon and the few items he can see from where he stands. The slight sneer on his face; amplified by the crooked scar; is now fitting. He slowly turns to Isabel, stiffly. There is limited movement in parts of his limbs.
[Matis] Their uniforms are shuf-... shuffictientā¦
*His lisp is unmistakable on that last word.
[Matis] ā¦ and harlotry is againsth the Strictures.
*He lowers his voice; eyes still focussed.
[Matis] We donāt do business with whores.
*She stares at Matis firmly. Her gloved hands linger on the clasp of her hood.
[Isabel] ā¦ I am not a whore.
*The water drips from the raincapes of the gathered; and from the eaves of her wagon. The big horse shudders behind her.
[Isabel] You are rude! Youāll do no business with me regardless of what I am! Go away!
*There is silence. The Breathers look at Matis with their heads down as if struck by lightning. Matis' expression darkens. He hisses.
[Matis] Insolent wretch..!
*As the words roll over his tongue, so does a sudden vile taste of brackish saliva; a mixture of extreme bitterness and rot.
*Matis heaves and attempts to spit out whatever causes this terrible taste in his mouth but to no avail. He hangs his rifle over shoulder and grabs his water flask. The little water remaining tastes just as awful...
*Isabel stands with her fierce eyes half lidded. She exhales, the surge of her strange, unconscious magic dissipating. Her little fire flicks and sizzles.
[Isabel] Perhaps there is better water down the road, FAR from here!
*She turns, taking the creaking step into her painted wagon. Isabel gathers her green bottle lanterns hurriedly.
[Isabel] And may you choke on it!
*She wipes her cheek on the sleeve of her thick cloak, and with a final, heated look at Matis, slams shut the wagon door, leaving the little clearing lightless but for the dying fire. Her big horse shifts, brasses and tack chinking.
*One hand covers his mouth. The other, sporting the rosary chain, rests on his knee as he leans forward. Matis spits on the ground by his feet once more but it doesnāt help.
*The moment Isabelās door to her wagon closes, Matis growls and kicks her little kettle several feet away. His boot stomps through the small remaining campfire, scattering the glowing coals between the wet grass. It sizzles and dies out.
[Matis] You impudentā¦-! -hgnnn-
*His sentence was cut short by his heaving. He reaches for his rifle. The temptation burns in his eyes as he glares at the wagon. None of the Breathers move. Slowly, his grip on the weapon slacks. He speaks through gritted teeth.
[Matis] May Mother see and judge us; -hgnn- and purge our hearts with fireā¦ Letās move! N_H; front!
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Amor Roy takes the advice of his Ward and goes to meet the leader of the Settlement, instead he finds his charge.
Starring: Amor Vice, Roan, Jangles
Warnings: Vulgar Language, Sexual implications, Threats, Intimidation, (No Sexual Intimidation!), Mention of Gore
*It isnāt that Amor is afraid of finally meeting the mysterious Mr Jangles, but his brother Vice hadnāt exactly painted a pretty picture. And from what Cassius said about himā¦ āIntimidating but not unreasonableā¦ Seems to want to make this work but thereāsā¦ Something. Watch your mouth and keep your eyes peeledā well, it was hardly a shining endorsement.
*Heād dressed up in his best: leather trousers heād made himself from scraps of hide of various beasts; a tattered, old, vintage leopard fur coat; thick, heavy gold chains around his neck and a pair of his fatherās old army boots on his feet. Amor reckons he looks ready for business.
*Respectable, like.
*He ummmās and ahhhās for a few moments, dawdling around the tent and wondering exactly how he has to draw attention. Canāt really knock on the door ( ācloth donāt knockā he tells himself sagely) and just walking in seems like a death sentence waiting to happen. So he goes for what he thinks is the most polite option. Hollaring.
[Amor] Ey! Big J! You in there?
*ā¦And heard he is. Behind the thin cloth something shifts but instead of more reasonable feet tapping on scraps of wood it's the ticking and clicking of nails scraping hard against the floor. Brute (recently redubbed 'Waffles') storms out, a huge, lumbering body moving almost too fast for lumpy legs to follow resulting in some split-second adjusting on the spot.
*As soon as small beady eyes catch sight of an approaching stranger, beneath folds of hooded skin, his maw opens to express his loyalty in short and booming barks.
[Roan] Waffles, it's fine!
*The dog silences save for a few disheartened semi-barks blubbering from curtainy lips.
*Another face appears, this time human. Almost hidden behind a layer of fabric covering her hair, ears and neck, beams a bright smile that continues in her eyes.
[Roan] I'm so sorry! I hope he didn't scare you! He's a fussy-pants but not particularly dangerous...
*She steps from beyond the curtain, silver-stained arms moving from behind her back to the front, visibly fidgeting with them if only to draw brief attention to them.
[Roan] I'm Roan, by the way! That's Waffles there! You were kind of screaming so... is something wrong? I'm here to help!
*The appearance of the lumbering beast has Amor stepping back a few paces. Swallowing hard and flapping one hand in front of him whilst the other grips his coat closed as if to protect his tattooed torso. Itās only hearing the womanās voice that has him straightening up again, almost preening. Rolling his shoulders back and pulling himself up to his full (if not exactly impressive) height.
[Amor] Ohā¦ Ohhhhā¦ Yer not Janglesā¦ But damn am I pleased to see you rather than āim. I meanā¦ scrap anā void, if I had to rate yāfrom one to ten, Iād āave to give ya a nineā¦
*Amor grins wide and gestures to himself.
[Amor] Cause Iām the one yer missinā!
*There is a wary glance at the dog before he steps forward and offers his hand, still all grins and good humour despite the animal still being there.
[Amor] They call me Amor, but you can call me any time ya like!
*There is a sweet giggle coming from Roan as Amor speaks, small dimples appearing in her cheeks. Amor's words visibly get to her as she tries her best to hide an embarrassed smile by biting on her lips.
[Roan] That's fine, Loveā¦
*She scratches her throat and moves her eyes over to the dog for a brief moment, trying to gather her thoughts again. The dog is sniffing at Amor from a distance, flabby neck stretched as far as possible without tipping over.
[Roan] Jangles is in the back, but I can call him for you if that's what you want?
*Roan briefly looks over the man, her kind smile still in place, she steps back into the tent for a few seconds, returning with something that crinkles and something that has immediately earned the full attention and respect of the dog. Long ribbons of drool already dangling. She throws it at Amor; an already opened pack of stale waffles. She looks at Amor and directs her attention to the dog again.
[Roan] Give him one and he'll think you're the world or leave you be. Either's fine.
*There is definitely a spark of interest and hope in Amorās eyes from that one term of endearment. She didnāt say noā¦ Hasnāt rebuffed him with a punch and a curseā¦ āIām fuckinā in here!ā.
*The bag is caught with a surprised little grunt and he looks between Roan and the dog and then peeks inside the bag. Thing about dogs and girls was that you had to befriend the dog if you wanted to get anywhere with the girl. Beasts were a loyal sort, and he wasnāt going to get his end away if there were teeth in his end.
[Amor] Yeah, if you could be a real sweet thing and let him know that Commander Royās son is here, thatād be great!
*There is definite pride in his voice upon speaking his fatherās name. Knowing that most would make the mistake of seeing Vice Roy waiting for them, but the brief moment in which Amor knows that they are thinking he is someone of worthā¦ That is a lofty feeling indeed.
[Amor] Cāmere, boyā¦. Got a tasty treat for you!
*One of the stale waffles is broken in half and offered to the dog who happily ambles on over. One half of the pastry goes into the dog, whilst the other half goes into Amor Roy. Food is food and he isnāt going to let it all go into a drooling mutt.
[Amor] Soā¦. You anā Janglesā¦. Yannoā¦ Bumpinā uglies? Or am I good to cut in?
*A quick dip of her head and Roan turns on her heel. A deep breath and she shouts:
[Roan] Visitors! Commander Roy's tadpole!
*She turns back once she hears the sound of Jangles moving and tilts her head sideways at the not-so-subtly chewing Dreglander.
[Roan] Are you hungry? You really shouldn't eat that! I can give you fresh ones if youād likeā¦ We've got them just here! Those are from yesterday so they go to Wafflesā¦
*Her voice hints at genuine concern as sheās already scrambling in the back to retrieve some better food for Amor. Yet as she returns she stops upon hearing the question. The beginning of a shudder settles in her back and evolves ultimately in a look of horror and a twitch of her head.
[Roan] Jangles and meā¦ Chargehand noā¦ Oh no. He's- He's looking out for me. That's all. There's nothing thereā¦ At all.
[Jangles] āXcept f'some kindness an' a helpin' hand.
*The man appears from behind the thin cloth and stares down at Amor with a hardened gaze that only cracks to a smile upon seeing that familiar leopard-print (though in more quantity) and yappy confidence he once saw in the man's twin.
*He strides forwards, metal arm snaking around Roan to snatch the packet of waffles out of her hands. He looks at it briefly before throwing it back at her.
[Jangles] Don't, y'll feed 'im t'death.
*His eyes return to Amor and his hand waves in a half-hearted gesture.
[Jangles] The other other 'Mister Roy'ā¦
*His voice is merciless yet holds a tinge of joy.
[Jangles] A pleasure t'finally meet the man behind the stories. The resemblance to yer brother is uncanny.
*Amor stops chewing on the stale waffle for a brief moment to consider her words. It tastes okay and the dog seems fine soā¦ Heād eaten worse. But he swallows his mouthful and tosses the rest of the food to the dog. Who of course happily wolfs it down. Amor even goes as far to pet the animalās head when it comes snuffling along at his hip with the hopes of more. It isnāt that he disliked dogs, but heād all too often been at the wrong end of a guard dog while heād been stealing their masterās jewels.
[Amor] Soā¦ Yāsingle?
*Brushing crumbs from his beard and unable to keep the hopeful lilt from his voice. However, he soon shuts up pretty quick when Jangles makes himself known. Eyes widening a little as he takes in the man and in that moment believes every single thing his brother had told him.
[Amor] Uhā¦ Yeah. āpart from the fact Iām the better lookinā brother!
*He manages a wide grin as he approaches the man, wary of how he is looming over him and looks like he kills things with his bare hands, His own hand offered now and Amor is proud that it didnāt tremble.
[Amor] Heard you already met meā¦ Uhā¦ Man Servant. Heās a good lad, donāt say much, but donāt need tāspeak to get the van set up.
*With Jangles' appearance Roan as good as removes herself from the conversation, standing to the side, returning to a tedious work of picking things out of boxes and distributing them amongst the row of smaller ones stashed on their display tables. Occasionally her eyes shoot up to both men, still listening. When Jangles is busy with the newcomer she puts the waffles on the edge of the table, indicating to Amor he's free to take them when he wants.
*Jangles, on the other hand, shows no change, closing the distance between himself and Amor as he takes a hold of the hand, his metal digits loosely closing around Amor's. No use in testing a home-grown Dreggie with metal arms. A lot of them are cradled by them as kids by family or close friends, after all.
*He scoffs briefly, an eyebrow raising.
[Jangles] If't makes y'happierā¦ sure.
With the handshake concluded he distances himself, looking briefly at the work Roan's doing. The two catch each other's eye and Jangles only gives a lazy nod, turning back at Amor.
[Jangles] Yeah, Cas something-or-other. Seems an okay guy, don't seems like the dust-kickin' type so I ain't got any problems with him. Ā
*He remains silent, hooded eyes pointedly looking over the reject-leopard before returning to scanning the camp.
[Jangles] How're the Roys anyway? And what's a home-grown boy like y'self doin' out here in these wastes? Didn't expect tāsee any new folk from back home, truthfullyā¦
*It takes Amor a little while to come back to the conversation at hand. Allowing himself to glance over at Roanā¦ And then letting that glance become a loving, verging on leering scope of the woman from the top of her head down to her feet and then back up again. Taking in all the little details and wondering what sheād look like beneath him swathed in faux silk sheets.
[Amor] State Bred but Dreggie raised, yāwonāt āave any problems from me boy.
He finally tears his gaze away from Roan and shoves his hands into his pockets with a slight shrug.
[Amor] Pa is still puttinā the fear oā the gods inta all the new recruitsā¦ Anā mostāa the old ones. Ma is runninā thāroost. Anā Vice is absolutely fuckinā killinā it as General. Yanno, thereās rumour that he might actually make Commander before heās forty. How fuckinā awesome is that? As fer meā¦ Makinā my own way, yāknow? Army wasnāt fer me. Good for many folks, but dint sit well wā me.
*Unable to resist anymore, Amor saunters over to the table and picks up the bag of waffles that Roan has left out for him. Catching the womanās eye and giving a slow wink and a nod as thanks. Languidly leaning back against the table and letting the coat fall open. Displaying bare torso decorated with gold chains and tattoos for her to peruse should she want to. And Amor really hopes she wanted to.
[Amor] Travellinā man fer hire now. Yāneed someone to get a good kickinā? Iāll give āem a good kickinā. Lot extra if ya donā wanā āem to get back up again, if yāknow what I meanā¦?
*He waggles his eyebrows in Roanās direction before finally turning his attention back to Jangles.
[Amor] Do me little magic shows too. Yanno likeā¦ Find the lady and whatās your card? Nice little money spinner on the side.
*The attention for Roan is well and truly noted, the girl often peeking up and smiling shyly at the boisterous man parading around like he owns the place. Still, she holds a tinge of fear in her eyes as they dart back to the true owner of this entire ramshackle community. When Jangles is otherwise occupied she dares to return the glances coyly.
[Jangles] State don't seem to raise loud-mouths. My mom used t'be State 's well, gotta drag the words from 'r mouth if y'want 'em. Though sure as fuck don't make āem innocent.
*He turns back from his little overwatch-position as Amor is moving, his eyes narrow at the display, at the attempt of peacocking the man is indulging himself in. He coughs, following the young man's every move.
[Jangles] Ah well, t'each their own. No sense in draggin' y'corpse out to practice each day if y're not into it. Won't do you nor yer buddy any good when y're out there and gettin' shot at. Ain't like y've got much space in y'brain t'allow f'minor things like watchin' someone's back f'more reasons than t'enjoy the viewā¦
*Jangles' eyes veer from the girl to the man, the atmosphere at this point almost tangible but it is the man's challenging posture that puts a wicked thought into his mind. He saunters over to the leopard-print-human until their knees almost meet. His arms are crossed and his head tilted sideways. He makes a scene of turning his head to look at Roan, the girl shies away from it, eyes focussed at the torch in her hands, fingers wringing around the textured plastic.
[Jangles] Y'd a look at Roan yet? Ain't she a fine beastie? Listens real well, good-manners f'what she is, too. Look at 'r squirmin' like a worm onna hook. Y'see the twinklings in 'r eyes? Oh she is lovin' the attention right now. Might wanna lock yer door tonight. She might come beggin' t'be let in like a lost pupā¦ and then she ain't leavin' neither. 'S like an animalā¦ Does that 'imprintin'' thing on anything that looks at her all friendly-like.
*The girl reels back, eyes wide and stance panicked.
[Roan] Jangles! N-no, Jangles. No, I'm not.
[Jangles] Don't y'fuckin' lie to me, wretch!ā¦ Y'made 'r lie to me, Amor. She's gotten so hot 'n bothered that she don't think straight anymore.
[Roan] Am n-not a wretch!
[Jangles] Shut up! Now, Amorā¦ My friend and good companion, Amor. I ain't lookin' t'make relationships strained, 'specially not wi' countrymenā¦ So lemme make a thing clear. My Roan; my sweetest, darlingest idiot-kid of a Roan ain't gonna make a decent wifeā¦ She ain't even gonna give y'a decent fuck neither.
*He leans in closer, close enough to make Roan gasp audibly.
[Jangles] Y'kno who ain't gonna get up 'anymore if y'stick yer dick in that? 'S gonna be you, buddy. Things happen when she gets all emotional and bullshit. Things y'don't wanna see and things I ain't gonna concern myself wiāanymore neither. Hope yer man-servant really enjoys scrubbing up blood 'cus that's what he's gonna hafta do when she's done.
*There is a slight pause before his face breaks open into that serpentine smirk, slightly too wide to be comfortable.
[Jangles] Should the ribbons of y'body still be attached 'nuff tāmove, don't come crawlin' over t'me askin' for help. Just a word o'warnin', real friendly-like.
*He pulls back again, his feet still in the same place yet in one fluid motion his hand moves up towards Amor's face resulting in only a friendly pat on the man's cheek.
[Jangles] Let this one slide, trust me on that one.
*Amor has been so busy checking out every angle he could see on Roan that he didnāt notice Jangles getting closer. Too busy being utterly delighted every time she throws a glance his way that by the time heās giving the other man the attention he is due, Jangles is far too close for his liking. There is nowhere to go as Jangles knees knock up against his, but despite this, Amor still tries to scurry back. But sadly for him, this only results in him hoisting himself up onto the table.
[Amor] Woahā¦ Woahā¦ Ok, Big Jā¦ I dint mean no harm or nuthinā. Sheās a pretty girl, anā Iāll be honest wiā ya, been a long time on the road, yanno?
All the colour has drained from his face and to his shame, there is the slightest tremor in his voice and a tremble in his hands.
[Amor] Not gonna hurt her! Not that kinda guy! Yāknow me family. Yāknow me brother. Apple donāt fall to far from the tree, yāget me? My Ma find out I mistreated a lady? Iād be a dead man!
*But Jangles meaning slowly begins to sink in and Amor finds himself turning to stare wide-eyed at Roan. She is magic then? Like him? Not entirely like himā¦ He is pretty sure of it. Butā¦ Roan and Jangles relationship is starting to make sense and Amorās mouth became dry. His tongue swollen and laying, for the first time in forever, silent and still. The only sound is the hammering of his heart against his ribs. A sound that he is sure Jangles could hear.
[Amor] ā¦..Letsā¦. Justā¦ Take this down a notch, yeah?
*A deep breath and he was looking between the distressed girl and smirking man.
[Amor] First of allā¦ Donāt call her a wretchā¦ Thatās not cool, man. She deserves as much respect as anyone. Would yer Mama let you say shit like that about ladies? Yāknow sheād tan yer hide if she heard that. I know my Mama would.
*He licks his lips as he tries to keep his voice steady. Holding his hands up in surrender. Trying to look as innocent and harmless as he can; despite the power crawling underneath his skin. His emotions at a dangerously high level and his magic crawling towards it as a terrifying rate.
[Amor] Not thinkinā about wives, not yetā¦ Got a bit of the wild still in me, yāget me? Anā if she donāt wanā me in her bed then, all she has to do is say. Not in the business of forcinā meself on women. Donāt need to, yanno. Got āem lininā up to see what I can offer. Butā¦ Yātryinā to tell me somethinā, anā trust me on this, I hear ya. Butā¦ We donāt gotta get all messy likeā¦
*The slice of space that Jangles has allowed is enough for Amor to get his breath back. And he swallows that new air greedily. Filling his lungs as he pushes that crackling power down down down.
[Amor] I got a coupla bottles of the good stuff from back home. Me Paās own brew, ya know the stuff. I say once everythinās all set up anā we have a spare hour or two, we try this again. Be all friendly-like.
*There it isā¦ That feeling of cornering a person. Sensing someone's pounding heart as clear as his own. The tremble in their eyes, the sound of a tongue ripping from the dry flesh of their own mouth and the slightly acrid smell of fear emanating from them. Jangles only just suppresses a shudder of delight at this little display of power. This isn't hunting, this is business. He'd learnt not to enjoy business or at least not show it.
*Yet as the man before him slowly collects himself he finds himself only sighing in annoyance. The man clearly had too much brown, blonde and black dye on his head to make anything stick.
[Jangles] Call a pig a pig. Makes taggin' 'em that much easier. But hereās me feelinā y'didn't quite get the memoā¦This-
*He feels the electricity surging to his fingers, clenching them as tight as he'd ever had, balling his fist, trying to make his point so that the youngest Roy would know. But to anyone's surprise, perhaps even Roan herself, she speaks up, she makes herself known and Jangles finds himself lowering his arm, looking at her. She's found what little courage she has left, feet planted firmly on the ground and shoulders stiffened, ready to catch any blow that might come her way.
[Roan] Janglesā¦ This is a new start, for meā¦ for you. You'd promised me. A new start means new scenariosā¦ A lot of stuff I have to figure outā¦ by myself. And a lot of stuff you've gotta figure out stillā¦ I won't-ā¦
*She makes a motion with her head, clearly embarrassed or unfamiliar with the subject.
[Roan] Y'knowā¦ Get-into-bed-with-himā¦ But there's no harm in being friends, right?
*She waits. The seconds feel like hours as she tries to gauge his reaction. HowĀ will this pan out? She knows him well enough but he remains whimsical when angry. Jangles is scrutinizing her, his small eyes narrowing even further. His face expressionless before that sickle-like smirk appears again like a crack of thunder. Roan can feel her bursting lungs releasing all pent-up air in a second.
[Jangles] Sure, pup, sure. You do you. Y'know my stance on it. He's heard what he needs t'make the right choices 'n life. It'll all be in the hands of stupidity nowā¦
*The tension remains in the air, all three - no four of them notice it, as even Wafflesā standing off to the sideā has the hairs on his back standing as straight as candles.
[Jangles] Y'go 'n make friends, Roan. Just make sure y'finish the packages firstā¦ An' tell me when y're off. Wouldn't want to leave the shop unattended, now would we? Would we?
*Roan merely shakes her head and Jangles takes it for as good an answer as he's gonna get. Amor gets a small nod and friendly tilt of his head before the man makes an exit, clearly at a loss of how to properly handle this.
*The girl stands to the side, holding her one hand still with the other as she is still trembling on her feet. A light, relief laugh comes from her lips before looking back at Amor.
[Roan] I-ā¦ I'm sorry, Amor. You getā¦ used to him after a whileā¦ He can run a bit hot and needs to vent it all. I-I'd love to take you up on the bottles though! And a card-trick!
*The very air is crackling around them. His own power pulsing and fluttering and desperate to get out. Be free. To tear down the walls of the tent and drag furrows through the ground. It demands destruction in the only way Amor has taught it how. But not now. Not here. Not while they are in this place. Heād promised himself and heād promised Cassius. No trouble. He is going to behave. No one can find out what he is. Not even Roan. There is a warmth in his belly though, that knowledge that he isnāt alone in this world. That even though he can never tell her, she exists. And for now, that is enough.
*His legs shake and even his hair tremors from roots to tips, Amor slides himself off the table and slinks around Jangles warily. The manās moods seem to change like the tides and he can absolutely see why Vice said heād kept him on his toes. A devil-may-care smile somehow finds its way onto his lips. Checking one last time to see where Jangles is going before sidling up to Roan. His hand going into his back pocket and bringing out a deck of cards.
[Amor] Got all sorts of tricks, sweetheart. Bet I could keep you entertained for a good, long time. I got a show thatās hard to beat. Wanā me to show you a special somethinā now?
*Seeing Amor jumping back up and actually smiling only encourages Roan to keep the conversation going instead of hastily ending it while hoping she wouldn't have to hide behind Jangles as he convinced them to leave her be, all while bearing that know-it-all gleam in his eyesā¦ Making her bear the knowledge that she wasn't and never would be like the rest. Still the fact that Amor jumps up as he does and remains while being a Dreggie surprises her, in a pleasant way. Perhaps only Janglesā little pool of friends have that look on their face like they are witnessing a bloody murder at the mere mention of her name.
[Roan] Oh, I'd love to!
*Her sweet smile in place and her own eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity, she only has eyes for the deck of cards in Amor's hands.
Those hands are deft and nimble as he goes through a few fancy shuffling techniques. And some that are more than fancy. Some that are helped along by his own power, making it look like the cards flip and spin and turn around the deck. It looks impressive but could still be explained away if Amor needed to.
[Amor] Ok, hot stuff! Pick a card, any card! I will amaze and astound you!
*As soon as Roan chooses her card, Amor scribbles something down on it with a chewed up pencil, explaining that is to further prove it is her card and not just an extra he happens to have. Making sure to concentrate on it and wraps a tendril of his magic around it as itās slid back into the deck.
[Amor] And now we just give it a lilā shuffle, get it all nice anā cosy in there.
*He takes a step closer, speaking low and soft as if they are sharing a secret. Something intimate and just for them. Amorās control over his telekinetic power has the card slipping and dancing up to the top of the deck no matter how much he shuffles and splits and fans the cards. He bites down on his lower lip to stop the grin from spreading as he brings out the card with a flourish.
[Amor] Is this your card?
*He holds up the card in question, hoping that only she can see the crude map heād drawn on its face. A circle around a square with an arrow pointing to it saying āmy place. 10pm.ā
*Four of hearts, what a card to pick out of the numerous others she could've picked, well the ace of it's family might've been a bit more alarming. With interest and anticipations she watches the man at work, writing down something before slipping it into the stack, seemingly lost forever. The speed and fervour behind his twirling shuffling indeed amazes and astounds her. She can hardly focus on the bits of cardboard flying about.
*It's with some sense of skepticism that she looks at him grabbing one of the cards yet as it turns to her there it is, four of hearts. She nearly hops up in excitement, clapping her hands before something catches her eye. A red blush of shame reaches her cheeks when his fingers point beneath ā what she assumes isā a sentence or bunch of letters behind each other. She sees the 10 but beyond that is pretty much lost.
[Roan] That was amazing! But -ehā¦ Wellā¦ My parents were just factory workers. I didn't get the whole 'school'-thing growing up. Y'mind readin' that aloud to me?
*Amorās shoulders sag a little as he is sure this little romantic gesture would have worked a charm. A glance to find Jangles, before he decides āfuck itā. He leans in, one hand pressing to the small of Roanās back as he pulls her in closer. A quirk of a smile on his lips as he lowers his head to her ear. Lips brushing the sensitive shell as he murmurs low.
[Amor] That there is a little route to my passion wagon. Come and see me tonight, ten oāclock. And Iāll show you a whole load of magic. Got some fun tricks Iād like to show you. Really make the night go off with a bang!
*Sheād told Jangles that she wonāt be getting into bed with him, but Amor didnāt take that as an actual no to him. Unless she shut down his advances to his face? Still open season as far as Amor is concerned. For all he knows, Roan could have said that to Jangles just to get the guy off her back.
[Amor] Yāsaid ya had stuff to figure outā¦ Nothinā like a few new experiences to really get things goinā.
*Amor stays close for a few more moments before he finally takes a step back. Carefully reaching out to take Roanās hand and presses the card into her palm, curling her fingers around it. A wink and a grin before raising her hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles.
[Amor]āIām lookinā forward to seeinā ya, sweetheart.
*The sudden closeness of Amor startles Roan for a brief moment, the feel of fingers at her lower back even making her jump, yet as she feels his broader body against hers it has that bit of familiarity she knows from Jangles ā well when he wasn't an aggressive dick. When he is friendly and when those hugs are comforting.
*She scratches her throat at the less than subtly-worded entendre. While she is naive there has yet to be born a person to be so naive as not to catch the intentions behind those words. A disappointed sigh rolls from her mouth. The delicate kiss on her knuckles only further beating the message home.
[Roan] Amorā¦ I think I know what you're trying andā¦ I don't think I can. It's a bunch of reasons and-ā¦ I do think Jangles has a point. B-but we can be friends and kind of see what happens? Getting drunk with Jangles is fun so I reckon getting drunk with you'd be even more fun! Y'knowā¦ Justā¦ Let me find my feet before sweeping me off of them?
*A toothy smile and delicate innocence brightly on display within her big eyes.
*It still wasnāt a noā¦ Perhaps a not right now. A maybe. A later on. But he was great company and he had great booze, really it would be a great oddity if she continued to be able to resist his charms. And all she was presenting to him right now was a challenge. Something that he was ready to meet head on. Ready and willing and there was excitement dancing in his eyes.
[Amor] Far be it from me to try and force a lady, sweet darling. Iām well into you, that canāt be denied. Prettiest little thing Iāve seen for miles and miles. Anā I like a girl who speaks her mind, yāgotta lot oāpluck. Me anā you, weāre gonna have a good time. Anā it donāt have tābe between the sheets, baby.
*He grins wide and gives her the finger guns before swaggering backwards to the entrance of the tent. A lavish wink and blowing a kiss before he spins on his heels and all but dances out of the tent. A skip in his step and a grin on his face.
The first greetings within Bluelight Bazaar. A lost (former) Ward meets the man who runs the place.
Starring: C_S/Cassius and Jangles
*Theyāve been there a grand total of one whole hour and already Amor has gone wandering. Cassius feels that perhaps he should be grateful that he stuck around fifty minutes longer than he was expecting, but still. Being left to set up the army truck to look more like a small stage and āmagicalā trinkets stall whilst his companion is out exploring is not his idea of a good time. Butā¦ He owes him more than could be weighed in gold, soā¦
Turn Twist Thread Tug
*Slumping against the truck as he knots and ties rope to hold down the canvases to create a makeshift canopy, the Ward tries to keep a neutral expression and not allow his irritation to show.
Turn Twist Thread Tug
*But really, he supposes he was allowed to be a little annoyed. For a man who has a lot to hide, Amor has a tendency to go running head first into trouble rather than keeping his head down and just letting Cassius watch his back. Thatās what he was built for. Meant for. If Amor didnāt allow him to just do his job thenā¦
Turn Twist Thread Tug
*It is ridiculous. Amor is ridiculous! This whole situation is ridiculous! Heās been saved from luxury to be sentenced to following around that gaudy, Chainsā damned, leopard-spackled rat-bastard Aberrantā¦!
Turn Twist Thread Tug
*His lip curls ever so slightly as he gets up and swings the canvas into place. Stomping around the truck as he makes sure everything is settled and tugs the old iron pegs from the makeshift satchel sling hanging around his neck. Perhaps he looks a little shamefaced at having even thought that particular slur. But it has been a long journey and really, he is tired. Looking after Amor Roy is more trouble than it is worth sometimes. Arm raised with hammer in hand and the other holding the peg steady, he pauses as a shadow falls over him and his work. Lips part to speak, but then clamping shut again. Instead looks to the other with a questioning look in his eyes.
*It is a really hard thing to miss. Amongst a sea of vehicles, mounts and carts this one stands out like a sore thumb. Itās that rusty-trusty Dreglands-make. An image that both portrays a sturdy vehicle capable of hitting a sizeable tree and shrugging it off; as well as a fragility that it might crumble to useless parts the second the wind blows a bit too hard.
*As familiar as the thing might be and as pleased as Jangles is to see another person from the same stagnant mud-pool as himselfā¦ its appearance does little to assure him. He didn't expect other Dreglanders to pop up this soonā¦ This isn't claimed territory and all who'd shown interest in this endeavour had been accounted for.
*Curiosity has gotten the better of him after an hour and he stalks down to the communal area, chest puffed, head tall and eyes cast just over people's heads. A heavy brow casting deep shadows in his sockets. His bionic arms swinging along to powerful steps, loose nuts rattling gently against their bolts.
*He pauses as the individual doesn't register the sound of his namesake, a framework of metal folds itself in front of him until he finally catches the stranger's attention. A few fingers raise from their position in a half-arsed greeting.
[Jangles] Y'be needin' some help thereā¦?
*Cassius becomes carefully still. Facial expression unreadable as he studies the man before him. Tucking both pegs and hammer into the sling, he brings himself to his full (impressive) height and wipes his hands on his thighs. Unsure of what to do without Amor by his side to do all the talking. He recognises the voice. It is one of the voices in the message his Dregland-companion had insisted on following up on. So Cassius assumes this man was the Authority.
*An Authority figure is one whom he can engage with. Use his voice. Even though heād really rather not. The right hand side of his body feels cold and alien as there is a leopard-print adorned shape missing. Cassius isnāt used to make decisions on his own. Even when he is making decisions for Amor. It is still with the man present and involved.
[Cassius] Think Iāve got it covered. Who am I addressing?
*The shift of Janglesā neck craning back to remain eye-contact with this stranger is one he is rather unfamiliar with, a small smile settles on his lips to further welcome the potential-Dreglander. It is however when the man opens his mouth that the smile wilts away.
[Jangles] Well nowā¦ 'addressin'ā¦
*His head cocks to the side, deep-set eyes almost dramatically shifting from the unmistakable truck to the individual before him.
[Jangles] I've heard some Dreggie-accents 'fore but y'ain't Dreggie, can tell y'that.
*He twitches the remaining muscles attached to the iron-shop on his torso, once more jingling them.
[Jangles] I'm Jangles, I reckon y'followed the broadcast here? That lovely voice's entirely me. Now if y'd let me be a bastard and shoot back the same questionā¦ Worded a bit less stuffy tho. Perhaps work in how a stuffed shirt like yerself gets hold offa Dreglands truck, that'd be real sweet.
*Cassius takes a few moments to simply take the other man in. From his bionic arm to the sharp eyes that study him right back, Jangles isnāt like anything heās seen before. And heās spent quite a long time living in the Dreglands now. Chop-shop limbs and rust-dusted skin have become commonplace. But this manā¦? Looks a little different from the rest. Is something about him thatā¦ Never mind. It isnāt his place to ask or to insinuate. Every man is a predator in his own right. Pointing out that this one seems to have dagger-teeth and a serpentās tongue would seem rude.
[Cassius] I did. We did. Myā¦
*Friend? Boss? Owner? Cassius is unsure of how to explain Amor to this stranger. Theyāve played many different roles with each other over the years, each one a disguise, each one to keep the other safe. But they hadnāt really made plans for what to do in this arena. Amorās head too full of other plans and Cassius all too willing to just follow his lead.
[Cassius] ...Companion and I heard your message. I am Cassius, Mr Royāsā¦ Ward.
*What caught Jangles off guard was a niggling little name he was all too familiar with. His lips curl back in a wide smirk.
[Jangles] Vice? Vice Roy?! Vice's always had a dull taste, hadn't quite figured he'd find it in a Ward, mind yeh. Where's the snippy yapper anyway? Lilā fuck's doin' me a disservice not sayin' hi to 'Mister Jangles' 'pon arrivin'.
*There was also that little word that explained so much yet held surprisingly little meaning to Jangles: 'Ward'. He's seen them in all shapes and sizes, all faiths and believes. From them finding stragglers to the bastards finding them as deserters. Seemed they kept popping up years after the motherlands had groaned its last breath.
*He looks over Cassius again, his head tilting forward and back. The man surely is impressive in size and width, not a real wonder he'd survived Mother getting her teeth kicked in. Man has done a decent job of at least trying not to show he'd been catwalking shirts and uniform pants his entire life.
[Jangles] Wherever he is lemme take some o' my words back and welcome yāproperly in our little home away from home. Welcome, Cass.
*His bionic creaks as it untangles. A cold, metal hand extending in kindness.
*It would be impolite to simply ignore the hand outstretched in welcome. And even though Cassās skin prickles at the mere thought of taking ahold of that metallic hand, he does so. Chin raising a little to add the slightest fraction of extra height. Shoulders rolling back ever so slightly. Making himself look bigger as if Amor was standing right beside him and needed Cassiusā bulk to cover him.
*There is a flicker of shock in bright blue eyes as the brother is mentioned. A twin but declared elder. Two minutes and forty-two seconds. A mantra he has heard banded back and forth on many an occasion. And this man knows him. A flicker of an image in Cassiusā mind. The man who owns the truck. Has seen him behind the wheel on many occasions. Worn, tired old camo-gear and occasionally something that passes for a Generalās uniform. The army has matured him in ways that Amor has not lived through.
[Cassius] Amor Roy.
*A twitch as he makes it known in the slight tremor of his arm that heād like his hand back. Ready and willing to attack should the name of the younger Roy develop a sour taste in Janglesā mouth.
*There is a challenge behind Jangles's handshake, a test as his skeletal fingers envelop Ward-skin and press down slightly harder than he would otherwise have. When his bionic rattles just that slightly bit harder, when he lets his rickety wrist beat it further into this man that he isn't in the Capitol any longer.
*A good-hearted, if a bit chaffing test that allows him to see just what this man isĀ made out of. Just a run-of-the-mill Ward who'd retract his arm like it touched a hot plate or one of those who slipped as easy into the Dreglands-lifestyle as in another pair of pants. The latter did often lack the pronounced tongue of Cassius though.
*He's looking over the Ward's face, checking for any sign of discomfort, his sadistic little smile in place as always. If a man couldn't tease a ward what could he do? However his little cruel joy was swiftly forgotten at the mention of the other Royā¦ Ā
I*t takes less than a second for his face to go through shock, confusion only to settle on a wry smile.
[Jangles] Well y've gotta excuse me for t'mistakeā¦ There tend t'be only two 'Mister' Roys 'roundā¦ Anā one o' them's older than me.
*The challenge is noted and there is a glimmer of Casās own in the darkening of his eyes. There will be no making enemies here, not if Cassius can help it. But walking the last five years with Amor has made him more paranoid and suspicious than all the Citizens and their secrets this world can show him. There are people out there who will cut you down on an order. For beingā¦ Different. For something that you can not help. Years ago, Cassius would have been one of those people. Someone who would have been a danger to his charge. But his eyes are opening wider every day and the things he has seenā¦ Jangles would have to try a little harder than a firm handshake. As soon as his hand is released, Cassius does not tear it away. Simply moving so that both arms are by his side. Standing to attention. Waiting.
[Cassius] The Commander and his son, the General. I know them well.
*The Roy twinsā father is a stoic man, but despite a shaky start has never treated him badly. Has many kills to his belt and has lead an army of Dreglanders. The toughest man Cassius has ever met. Howeverā¦ It is the mother he fears. As well anyone should. If Vice is his fatherās son, then Amor is his motherās boy. And many will meet the knife strapped to her thigh should anyone touch him.
[Cassius] Amor is a good man. An honest and just employer.
*Not exactly a lieā¦ He wouldnāt call Amor completely honestā¦ And just is pushing it a littleā¦ Andā¦ He isnāt really his employerā¦ Okay, so that whole sentence is completely fabricated. But it sounds good.
*The Ward succeeds. He's the best Jangles could've hoped for. His nose not stuck in his ass, actually useful but not a trouble-seeker neither. Despite Vice's moaning about his brother, this one time it seemed the 'youngest' Roy knew what he's dragged along on his new outing.
[Jangles] Good, honest an' justā¦ Ain't he just a dream come trueā¦
*He mulls the words in his mouth, not the words he'd last heard Amor been described as, but not his place to make judgements based on Vice's griping and teeth-clenching. He'd have a look at the other Dreggie-leopard on his own time.
*Jangles shakes his shoulders loose, feet moving towards the truck, his head bend down and shoulders hunched, scanning the frame for a touch of white paint, a hint of a serial mark.
[Jangles] Y'know 'em well 'nough t'realize that they'd be smarter than to lend military-gear on whatever yer purpose here might be? Don't think Amor's made it through the ranks since last I heard Vice curse his name...
*His body stiffens and there is a spark of worry in his eyes. Amor hadnāt asked his brother to borrow the truck. A post-it note and an x under his name doesnāt really count as asking. But Amor has assured him it would be absolutely fine; that his brother wouldnāt be angry. And if he did get angry, it wouldnāt be for very long. Amor is sure of it. By the time they got back, he would have forgotten all about it. And it wasnāt like their father couldnāt lend Vice something if it was needed.
[Cassius] Business between the brothers is none of mine. And I certainly do not meddle in the affairs of the father. I am merely Mr Royās Ward
*Belonging to. Owned by. Indebted to. But in ways that didnāt leave a bad taste in his mouth. Not like his previous owners. Only one secret to keep. And none that were like rusted nails through an already fragile mind.
[Cassius] The army did not call to Mr Royā¦ My Mr Roy, I meanā¦...
*Jangles stops, one finger tapping at the glass of the headlight.
[Jangles] Heard nothin' seems t'call t'Amorā¦ Well 'sides his dick an' a nicely shaped gal. Gotta be a nice life, don'ty think Cass? Lookin' out for nothin' but that empty space in yer bed at night.
He has a smirk and his reptilian eyes glisten deep in his skull.
[Jangles] Don' really careā¦ Perhaps a bit jealous, but not my business.
His neck cranes back to the grounds of the settlement, specifically to the large board placed in the midst of it detailing the rules in writing and crude images.
[Jangles] The noticeboard just mightā¦ We ain't lookin' for more trouble t'be added on. Got a full schedule as is. Don't start any shit or drag any shit inside y're not willing to finish whilst lookin' at my face wearin' it's prettiest scowl.
*He doesnāt work well without Amor by his side. And it isnāt the first time that Cassius has realised this. Only a handful of times has Cassius been in the position where he had to act alone. Without order. Amor does not give orders, but there is a comfort in his presence. Something warm andā¦ Oddly inviting. Makes the cold marble of his skin feel something other than the plastic sheen of man-made toy. Makes him feel like a real person with a real personality and a real life and aā¦
[Cassius] He is a great lover of women. Likes a comfortable life. Has made sure that I too am comfortable.
*To call the persistent parody of flirtation and cheeky grins the combination that makes a great lover of women is pushing it a bit. But there is something in Cassius that makes him want to defend Amor. Even though it would be much easier to simply shrug and agree with Janglesā words.
[Cassius] Weāre not here to cause trouble, Sir. We wish to make trade. Nothing more.
*If Jangles has caught any defensiveness in the words of the Ward he doesn't show. Instead he simply smiles, eyes relaxed and mouth stretched just a tad too far for normalcy.
[Jangles] 'The beasts pushed the farthest love their commanders the mostā¦'
*The Dreglander muses with a sharp tongue.
[Jangles]Ā Ain't the State anymore, Wardling. The other Roy won't break if he'd help out in getting y'settled in... As long as y're having fun, āsuppose. This here's a new start for a whole lot o' us. Chin up and cut a bit loose, 'll do y'good in the long run.
*His eyes wander back to the Compound and his little tent off to the side.
[Jangles] Words that put a jingle t'my step, friend. We'll get on famously. Can already tell.
*He steps away from the truck, pausing after a few strides and looking back at the partially put-up tent.
[Jangles] Y've got some more work cut you for'y and I know what I need ā same as you. So āless there's somethin' more, Cassā¦ Look if y're needin' anything ā power, water, help,ā¦ Y'can ask around. Need me specifically go to the tent with the hairy elephant outside and ask for me.
[Cassius] Thank you, Sir.
*A slight nod. A moment of waiting. Watching. And then slowly, turns his back and returned to his work. Showing his back a tentative show of trust. He will have to discuss this meeting, this man, with Amor.
