merciful soldier

full name. milo rupert amadeus boone carpenter

pronunciation. mai·low * roo·purt *  aa·muh·dei·uhs * boon

meaning of name. milo means ‘merciful soldier’. rupert means ‘bright fame’. amadeus means ‘love god’. boone means ‘good’

aliases. most people just call him milo

age. 31

date of birth. august 31st

place of birth. greenlake, montana (moved to salem at 15)

zodiac sign. leo

race. white

nationality. american

gender. demi male

sexuality. pansexual

profession. yoga teacher / novelist / fortune teller

– 

“Lied no, but how often have you withheld the truth?” There was a very fine line between the two things she had noticed and some often liked to dance back and forth over it, Where people felt they were on the line was always more interesting to Ofelia that whether or not they actually told lies. 

Offering her elbow Ofelia paused so that the other had time to link up with her. “I would love a wander buddy.” 

.

“Well...” he said, trying to think back. There were many times where he probably should have withheld the truth, for his own safety, but he didn’t. Like when he told his parents that the conversion therapy camp they’d been sending him to wasn’t working and that he was still very much attracted to boys. Things would have ended up very differently for him if he hadn’t been quite so honest then. “Not nearly often enough. I should become a better liar. Can I make a New Years Resolution in September? Learn to Lie,” he smirked.

Smiling, he linked his arm with hers, and they set off walking out of the alleyway. “Did you have any good introspective thoughts on your wander? I always find walking kind of meditative.”

“Well, how have I never seen this before?” the woman asked with a grin, tilting her head a little so that she tried to rack her brains for times she would’ve seen someone just casually yeeting themselves around the alleyways of Salem. She wasn’t exactly unobservant, and it wasn’t exactly hard to miss someone like the man before her throwing himself around. “Uh, well you know before that it was quite impressive, even though that landing and recovery from it was fairly impressive as well.” she admitted, “I am new, don’t worry. Just over two months or so. Olivia.”

.

“I’m usually a little bit more stealthy about it. Sometimes the roofs I’m jumping onto and off of are private property, which is where the legality of being secretly Spiderman goes into a bit of a grey area,” he smirked. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’ll do better next time you catch me in the act. Promise.”

“Ah, I knew it. Good to meet you, Olivia. I’m Milo, but if you ever hear anyone talking about Cat Boy, that’s also me. Such an uncreative name...” he said, shaking his head, “I’m trying to start a rumor that I’m Spiderman instead, would you mind passing that along?”

.

As Milo spoke, she imagined how it might feel to wrap her hands around his throat until no more sound could pass and found herself smirking despite the annoyance that was spider-walking up her spine and stinging her cheeks red. The longer he spoke, the harder it became to not roll her eyes to the sky and curse whatever powers-that-be called it home and found this entertaining. “Yes, Milo,” she cooed, eyes moving over his shoulder to the dumpster he’d just crawled out of. “It really looks like you know what what you’re doing.”

Green eyes slid back to his and this time they did roll. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. The only time you bother me is when you’re standing right in front of me and I remember you even exist. But I do know what you need.” She closed the rest of the distance between them, mere inches and charged air separating their bodies as she reached out– bet he didn’t see that coming– and took his chin between her fingers as her eyes traced the fullness of his mouth before settling back on his eyes. An intimate gesture. “A shower.” She released him immediately, taking a step back and straightening. “You smell like shit. And I don’t just mean bullshit.”

.

Despite the boiling blood in his veins and the anger twisting his insides, Milo was smiling, and he wasn’t even entirely certain why. Maybe it was how much he was riling her up that was amusing to him. The fact that her blood was clearly boiling too. Maybe it was the artificially sweetened coo of her voice - the one she used to entrance men every day - and how annoyed she was that he seemed immune to it.

“So, now,” he clarified, considering he was currently standing in front of her, and she seemed extremely aware of his existence. “I’m bothering you now, then.” He somehow managed to smirk while still smiling, and it only faltered slightly when she came close, and touched his face. Despite himself, his breath hitched in his throat. But she stepped away as quickly as she’d come, and the smile returned to his scrutinized lips.

Her attempts to insult him didn’t stick - nobody’s ever did - and he let them roll off as he tried to read her expression now. Shaking his head, still smiling, he gazed at her a moment. 

“Yeah, sure. You want to come with?”

– 

Watching his reaction to the small child she wondered if that had anything to do with why he was in therapy. Not that she was judging of course, it was quite literally her job to keep emotions and opinions at the door. Everyone that came to help her was treated with the same blanket of respect and a fresh slate was provided. “No worries.” The parent he had left bewildered wasn’t one of her favourites so far and she didn’t mind him messing with them a little. 

“Every day seems to be a busy day lately but that’s what you get when you’re starting over isn’t it?” Luca asked him, gesturing for him to take a seat as she sunk into her own couch. “But I’m supposed to ask you how your day has been, how are you Milo?” 

.

Milo sat on the couch, legs crossed under him in his meditation pose. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not - quieting his mind and his thoughts in a place where he was supposed to be letting them out. He was good at organizing his thoughts. Noticing them, and acknowledging them, and letting them go. He just wasn’t sure that was what he was meant to do with them.

People had always told him how impressed they were that he’d gone through so much in his life and still had the optimism of a toddler. Anything was possible, and people were generally good, and life was beautiful, despite everything. But maybe that wasn’t good. Maybe he’d just been ignoring everything.

“Starting over... been there. How ar-” he stopped himself from asking her how she was managing everything. She was supposed to ask the questions. He would have to work on that. “Sorry,” he smiled. “Uh... I’m good. I’ve had a great day actually. Taught a yoga class this morning, did some urban exploration, found a really cool bug, and now I’m here.”

It was practically ritual now that when Syd closed up shop, he’d pawn off some of the leftovers to Milo. He hated waste, and a lot of people loved to barely touch their meals. Syd would check it first, obviously. But if there was a plate of wings and someone ate 5 and left 4… well, those 4 were going right in a tupperware. It stacked up every night and by the end, Syd was wiping up tables and closing up shop with several portables full of random bar faire. 

He’d tied back his longer hair for work and pushed the door open. “I wish there was more debauchery in here. Tonight was boring and shitty.”  Syd shoved the door open, letting Milo in. He was closing up shop and the bartender had already gone home. “This group of friends closed us out, so annoying. Kept telling them we were closing and they kept asking for drinks. Bar was CLOSED.” He had a nicer button-up on tucked into his always-tight jeans, an apron rolled over and tied at his waist, sleeves rolled up. “Sit at the bar or at a booth while I finish up.” He thrust the four tupperwares full of everything from grilled shrimp to fries to wings and chicken strips into Milo’s hands. “Figured we could go for a drive with everything. Smoke a bit, hang near the harbor. You game?”  

.

“Don’t ruin my daydreams, Syd, if it smells like debauchery, it’s debauchery,” Milo insisted, honestly just loving the word debauchery too much right now to let it go. He might already be a little bit high, but when wasn’t he? It was to be expected of him at this point.

“Honestly, people are the worst. They’re also the best, but some of them...” he scrunched his nose and shook his head, as though people were so terrible he couldn’t find a word bad enough for them. In reality, of course, he just loved people, even the annoying ones who kept his friend at work longer than necessary. 

Smiling, he skipped over to the bar and hopped up onto a stool. When the tupperwares were placed in front of him, he unconsciously began to use them as bongo drums while he listened to Syd’s plan. “Oh fuck yeah. I want to spend as much time outside as we can before Tourist Season destroys our souls,” he smirked. He loved people... but tourists didn’t count.

The man was something else, Kim would give him that. “You’ve got some cracked eggshells in your curls. I’d get it out but I won’t be held accountable if I ruin the perfect coif you have going on.” She stood back as she watched Milo make his exit from the dumpster, his limbs moving in such an unnerving manner. “Sure, who would believe you, a mere mortal got ousted from the heavens because they got voted out of Olympus.” She laughed softly, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. She looked back over at her bike once he had mentioned it and she nodded. “Yeah that’s mine,” Kim said with a sense of pride. “Tried and true, she’s gotten me through so many cities and states.” She looked at him for a moment, “Did you need a ride somewhere?’ 

.

Milo shook his head like a wet dog, trying to get the eggshell out of his hair. “Did I get it? If I didn’t, you have full permission to touch the curls,” he smirked. “You can tell all your friends you’ve touched the hair of a fallen God.”

She looked at him as he was looking at the bike, and he was startled out of his daydreams about the absolute freedom that would come with one of these. So it took him a second to process her offer. “Wait, really? You’d take me somewhere? I mean, I have nowhere specific to be, but I will let you take me wherever you want, honestly.”