prince of the playground;

alxndrhenderson‌:

And of course Ghost wasn’t going to explain either. No, he was going to try and diffuse the situation in general. That’s what he did, that’s what he was good at. And yet, a part of him wondered if wasn’t getting into it to protect him from Aerith’s reaction. Not that he thought either partner would judge him too harshly, in fact, Alex oftentimes wished they’d get on his case some more. They were both incredibly supportive and patient, to the point where it was baffling. That’d been something he’d figured out pretty early on, that they were a team regardless of fuck ups, that they’d get through mistakes. Which was harder. Talking things through, feelings things, was all a lot harder than just saying ‘fuck you’ and leaving.

The little touch Ghost offered was comforting, calmed him down a bit. Even if it did leave a bloodied handprint against his shirt. Expression softening, he moved to press the dampened rag to the wound on Ghost’s chest carefully. Dabbing at it to try and clear the blood enough so that he could assess the damage, his gaze briefly flickered in Aerith’s direction. “I got impatient. Guy was a bit more than I could chew so someone decided to step in.” Eyes back on Ghost, the corners of his lips quirked up to offer a hint of a smile. “You should see the other bloke.” Attention on Aerith again, he shrugged his shoulders to try and convey casualty but his posture was too rigid to pull it off. @witheredwarren​ 

“Yes,” She answered handing him the roll of bandages. Short, to the point answers made her feel more in control in moments like this. Instead of blurting out everything she was thinking. 

Like that she should have gone with them, or that if she’d been there maybe it would have turned out differently.

There’s a look on her face when she locks eyes with Alex that tells him she doesn’t buy it. But it lacks any venom that would have been sent in the direction of those who’d actually done the hurting. 

Her hand reached forward to find the top of his arm, for a moment. The gesture says they’d talk later, before her eyes looked back to their partner. “So it’s done?”

The mission she means, and she waits to gage their reaction before she lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.” 

Ghost liked it better like this, when Alex was trying his best to crack jokes and Aerith was sighing in relief. He wanted to tease both of them for being so on edge with this whole thing, but he refrained. He understood the panic of seeing your partner hurt, he’d just gone full psycho murderer on a couple vampires for touching Alex, sure, but they had to realize, at some point, that he was still an immortal being with no real body. Chances are he couldn’t even bleed out if he tried. He wouldn’t put that to the test, but still.

“It’s all good, like I said,” he hummed in reassurance, taking the gauze offered and half-heartedly patching up some of the smaller cuts, at least to help out. “I just want a shower and bed. Can we do that?”

There was a healing potion on the first aid kit, he knew, that would speed up the process immensely, with the downside that it might leave him with a nasty scar or two, as opposed to just letting his body heal it properly. He motioned towards it with a flick of his fingers. “Let’s just do that, and I get a new sick scar on my chest. I’m tired.”

alxndrhenderson‌:

At the mention of her name, Alex tried not to just shrink into Ghost’s side. He did let out a small huff of breath and nudged the bigger man towards the kitchen gently. “We’re alright!” He called out, lips immediately pulling into a small frown that he hid from the companion at his side as he continued towards the kitchen. Destination reached, he scrambled for the first aid kit under the sink. This was his fault, he should have been more careful. Hell, maybe it should have been Aerith and Ghost paired off and they wouldn’t be in this current mess. Teeth chewed at the inside of his cheek as he dampened a rag in the sink, eyes kept downcast. He wasn’t going to launch into how sorry he was, not while Aerith was around. He didn’t want her sympathy or her worry, he didn’t deserve it. He’d messed up, he needed to own up to it and make it right with Ghost on his own. When the footsteps grew closer, he did look up at Ghost, still frowning as his fingers rang out the dampened cloth in his hand. “Shirt off, lemme look at that.” Nodding towards the worst of the injuries, the one still gradually dampening his shirt, Alex was still frowning and avoiding eye contact.

“We’re alright, no need to worry.” It was a mumble in the general direction of the footsteps. @witheredwarren​

It’s the repeated insurance that they were alright that spikes her blood pressure. Her heart began a steady incline as she rounded the stepped through the shadows, no longer attempting to keep her steps quiet. She’s a spy first and foremost, but there was no point in being careful once you’d been caught. 

“What happened?” Aerith keeps her voice level, her question coming before she’d actually seen what was going on in their kitchen. 

He was bleeding on their laminate, and they were still telling her not to worry. 

Men.

Aerith walked over to survey the wounds, careful to keep out of Alex’s way as she moved about the space gathering other items to bulk up the first aid kit. Ointments, bandages and potions that could help. She wasn’t a witch by any means, but in this city it was good to befriend a couple for situations like this. 

She understands her silence must not have been comforting, but she was too busy gathering to strike up much more of a conversation. A million questions where racing through her mind, that might of been where the speed of her feet found their momentum. 

See, this was all unnecessary and annoying. 

Now Alex was upset and Aerith was freaking out -- she was, under all of that tough exterior, he could tell -- and they all had to take turns being the quietest. The mission wasn’t worth all this mess. A part of him wanted to shoo the two off and take care of the wounds himself before they could all return to bed and be a normal three-way couple, but he knew that’d only make it worse for everyone. He’d allow them to fuss.

There was hesitance in his move before the shirt came off, if only because he could feel how bad it was, and he didn’t want them to see. More than that, he didn’t want to see the look on Alex’s face when he saw. “It’s okay,” he sighed, trying to be reassuring as he looked down at himself. The bruises that lit up his torso would be gone in a few hours, at most, but the (still bleeding) gashes were still having a hard time closing on their own. He could try and make them heal faster, but his energy was running low, now. “It’s alright, guys, just give me some bandages,” he spoke with the calm of a man who wasn’t bleeding profusely, even if he was, because that was just a perk of not feeling any pain. At least he had something going on for him.

He threw his shirt over into the sink, hoping it didn’t stain the kitchen counters on its way, and reached out to squeeze Alexander’s forearm. His hand was probably bloody, too, and would make a mess of the shapeshifter’s skin, but the touch was all the comfort he could offer for now. He’d leave talking for later, when he meant it more, when he wasn’t still so irritated and bleeding. “Aerith, do we still have some gauze?” He looked back over at the first aid box. “I’m not gonna die, y’know. You two don’t need to act like you’re mentally preparing my eulogy every time this happens. Have a little faith.” He didn’t have it in him to smile, but he hoped the humor wasn’t lost on the two. @alxndrhenderson​

alxndrhenderson‌:

“Would you keep it down?!” It was a hushed snap, one Alex immediately regretted but he turned his head away so Ghost couldn’t see his frown as he entered the house. A mission without Aerith wasn’t an uncommon thing, they didn’t always do something together. But things had gone South quick with just the two of them. He’d be first to say it was his fault, it was his hot headedness. If he’d just held back a moment longer the two vampires they’d gone up against wouldn’t have gotten the jump on them. Ghost had taken the brunt of the attack, was still bleeding through his shirt. Alex himself was a little scraped up, the flannel shirt he’d been wearing haphazardly hanging off of him after throwing it on quickly after shifting back. He felt sore but he’d make it, he was more worried about dragging Ghost into the kitchen without waking Aerith up. The last thing either of them wanted to do was worry her further, she’d seemed on edge enough about not going with them. Pressed against his companion’s side, he heard a creak from a floorboard near the stairs and paused in the darkened hallway. @witheredwarren @resiliencic

She does remember how long she’d been asleep for, the season of the show she’d fallen asleep too hadn’t stopped automatically going to the next episode. So it couldn’t have been that long. But the reason why she’d finally decided to just sleep was that she was driving herself crazy. Waiting, and waiting. Watching the clock move and wondering why they weren’t back yet. 

They’d worked independently before, too many times to count but something about tonight felt off. They were taking a little longer than usual, and hadn’t called to say they’d be home. Observing was what she did, all day, every day. But the tick of the clock taunted her in a way nothing else did. 

It’s the footsteps, and the sound of the door that caused her to stir. Aerith sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand. What time was it?

She waited a beat more to see if they’d come upstairs, but the harsh whisper had her moving to the top of the stairs instead.

Alex was right, Ghost had been a little bit loud coming in through the door, but he resented the other’s snappy tone. He’d been he one to take the short end of the stick here, clearly, if the bleeding was anything to go by.

The wound wasn’t much of a deal since oneiroi didn’t feel pain, but Ghost wasn’t exactly in a good mood about how their little mission had ended up. He had to patch this thing up and made sure it healed properly, at the very least. It wasn’t pain, but it was an immeasurable amount of annoyance and frustration, the kind he always had a hard time dealing with when paired with cuts in his chest that were gushing blood.

He heard the creaking on the staircase, too, but he only spared the darkness a glance before he was continuing over to the kitchen with a grunt. “Y’can come out, Aerith.”

( resiliencic )

“I’ve brought you a care basket.” There were few things in this world more exhilarating than watching a man performing manual labor. The sheen of a hard day’s work and the still fresh pump of muscle that had just been pushed to its limits were sights Clover could never resist. It was the main motivator for why he usually found himself posted somewhere close to the stables, eyes so full of wonder and something more as they followed the kindly ostler. Just watching him nearly fogged up the vampire’s spectacle. His body was propped up atop a bundle of hay. His cittern lay beside him and sitting between his legs was a basket covered in a checkered cloth. “Breads and cream, a waterskin, and some dried meats my neighbor offered me this morning. I figured you’d get more out of it than I would.” He swung his legs a bit as he awaited a response. @resiliencic

She’d been flying around the would-be city for most of the day, her notebook seemed to be bursting with information now that the world was an open field for her and her friends to explore. A caw, loud and cutting signalled her arrival. Perched on the half open stable door, she hopped along the edge until she could wedge her head under his hand once or twice before hoping back to the other side. 

The stables proved a safe place to store some clothes and her things. A basket of flowers, her notebook, and other knick-knacks her shifted state collected and brought back to him. 

Once she was hidden from sight, she shifted back peaking over the door of the stall she’d walked into and reaching out her hand to point to the hidden pile. “Spare a hand, kind sir?” She teased, her attempts to speak the olden way a little jagged but endearing. 

It was funny that Ghost could recognize her crow self from a mile away, even if she was just like the others of her species. And he wasn’t big on birds, his work at the zoo was mainly with the big cats, but still. He’d recognize her anywhere.

“Oh, a naked m’lady,” the oneiroi whisper-shouted as she turned, a childish grin on his lips as he moved over to the pile of clothes so he could pass them over. The dark cape was a nice touch. He thought it would look good on her, and he was glad she kept it. He was a gentleman above all, jokes or not, so he only sneaked one single peek before he handed her the clothes and politely turned around so she could get dressed without his eyes on her. “How’s it been? Find out anything fun, so far?”

“How’s it going, kind sir?” Ghost called as he approached Collins, grin widening easily. He hadn’t seen Collins in a while, and perhaps he should leave the man alone to do whatever he needed to do, but the oneiroi was a little bored. Sue him, he couldn’t find anyone else to bother. “Settling in well?”

Working for the Calloways was good. A nice touch, an afterthought he’d added in himself, so he could stay close to the family, just in case. It was good to keep tabs and keep his ears wide open in case there was anything useful from the mayor’s family that he could report back to the world of the living. “Sir, the horses are ready,” he called out as he neared the house, not daring step foot inside, knowing his stable boy position didn’t quite allow him that much intimacy. “They’re doing well and have a lot of energy today, it seems. Would be good to take them for a ride.”

“Oh, there she is,” Ghost announced as he saw the familiar form approach, a content grin gracing his lips. They might have other duties and perhaps they should be off focusing on finding new information, but he was hoping she’d stop by. They had time to kill, anyway, and he was bored. 1500s Europe wasn’t quite his thing. “Looking good.”

Felix knew that it wasn’t fully ‘typical’ especially in the United States. There were a lot of jokes about in-laws. But Bea was his friend, his family as much as anyone he was blood related too. “Ghost? That is an interesting name.” The witch replied. He reached back out and took the larger man’s hand, shaking it. He grinned, “That’s alright. I’m sure there are many risks when working with wild animals.”

Ghost wasn’t holding anything against the dude, really, he believed in healthy platonic relationships, he just didn’t expect that to be the case between him and Bea. Well, go figure. “Thank you. I had an eccentric mother,” he joked, a chuckle escaping him. “The real name’s Kalani. And yes, there really are. Today was one of the good days. It’s always a good day when someone doesn’t try to claw my arm off.”

Vasa wrinkled his nose, though he couldn’t really argue. He was young, frustratingly so, but he tried to act older than he was. He followed both Cj and Julian, attempting to emanate them in some way or another. He wasn’t the last adopted, but he’d felt close enough to still be reeling from all the information he’d learned, and how much more his siblings knew. “Blue girl from X-Men?” Vee couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking his head. It still baffled him, how an oneiroi came from nothing. “You can change into anyone, and I think it’s…I don’t know.” Vasa had never been in love before; he couldn’t empathize with the way ghost was speaking. Maybe one day he’d understand. “Wouldn’t that be more depressing than not?”

Ghost liked seeing Vasa chuckle, whether that was a little bit at his expense or not, whatever it cost. “It’s okay. I know it sounds weird,” he reassured. It didn’t sound weird to him, but he’d seen the same reaction on humans before -- how they were always so afraid of reliving past grief, how they dealt with everything by storing it away. “I like keeping their memory alive, you know? It’s like honoring them, to me. It makes me feel good.”

Her body went where his guided willingly, such a difference between now and five years ago. When she moved away from any sign of affection with a violent jerk, now it was a welcome sign of an affection she didn’t know how to ask for but he seemed to give freely. She tried to repeat his pronunciation one more time, before deciding she definitely needed more practice. 

ātaahua, it meant little bird. Or she assumed it meant little bird, she’d never actually checked. It was a sort of deal she’d made herself. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her someday. For now, she spent her time preferring just to appreciate the sound of it, and the way his voice grew lighter when he said it. “Thank god this city has a shop on every corner. I can almost hear it.” She teased him, tilting her head up to look at him. Before mimicking the steady beat. 

Ghost knew that befriending Aerith hadn’t been that much different than befriending her bird form, too. They had come a long way in these last five years -- he’d eventually learned her soft spots and used them against her, of course, for her own good. He was still sometimes scared around her, like one movement too brisk could break the trust he spent all these years on.

“Ah, yes, New York, the city of coffee,” he mused with a happy little smile. As much as he missed the ocean, it really was a blessing to live in a big city, sometimes, when it came to how easy everything was to reach. “Oh, you’re just making it worse, you little minx,” he teased, his shoulders bumping into hers as he laughed.

She almost beamed, her restraint kept her features from showing all of her cards but to the untrained eye she was the sun on a cloudy day. Just poking through enough to know it was there. To the ones who took the time, her eyes became the moon shining brightly despite how dim she tried to keep the rest of her features. 

“Come on then, twenty minutes gives us enough time to get there and have a doughnut before your head turns into a pahu,” She might not have the pronunciation down yet, but hoped he’d give her an E for effort. Walking in the direction of the coffee shop, she had to walk twice as fast to keep up with his larger stride. It was almost a puzzle, trying to figure out how many of his steps equalled how many of her own and added another layer of enjoyment to her company. 

Ghost was an observer at heart, he could tell by the corners of her lips barely turning up that she was content with his response. He’d always drop everything to spend a day with her when he could, of course, it seemed silly she would even consider that something to be so happy about in the first place.

“Pahu!” He exclaimed happily, his face beaming as he pulled her into him, an arm wrapping around her tiny shoulders and giving her a teasing shake and a squeeze. It always filled his heart with so much warmth when someone paid his culture any mind, it was so sweet that she tried, wonky pronunciation or not. She almost had it down, too. Just had to add a bit more strength to it. “Smart one, ātaahua. I like that. My head does turn into a pahu if I don’t get my coffee.”

( resiliencic )

A disassociation was necessary to divide those who interacted with Clover from those who came into his life by way of the Red Cross. At work, he was chaos incarnate. Between the chameleon hair and trails of delicious, unmarked and sometimes naked skin sinful moving with deft flexibility, he radiated an energy that was akin to lust incarnate. He held a list of propositions that, when unraveled, could possibly span several miles. It was lovely in theory. The notion that so many people would care to see him tousled in their sheets was a stroke to the ego that Clover would always be thankful for.

However, the often pornographic nature of his performer persona was rather far removed from who Clover was in the daytime. He, of course, drew inspiration for such a lewd character from his own inner desires, but he was far more dimensional than just the presentation of his libido. Most patrons of the Red Cross didn’t really care about that, though. They wanted his form tousled in their sheets like they wanted trophies on their sandalwood displays. Who he was outside of that mattered very little.

Ghost had been different. Everything about him was different and Clover couldn’t write it out with clear words. Maybe he liked that the larger man challenged him, how he could as easily conquer him as the sky above was bright and clear (he had been completely on display for the man, after all) and yet he didn’t. It was in this crack in the matrix that their friendship had blossomed.

Clover lamented to leave his friends in the states to help the ones he had left behind in Europe, but now that he’d returned to his home, he was adamant on spending quality time with each one. He’d invited Ghost over for the making of hot cocoa and then perhaps a stroll through the night. Where they would go, Clover wasn’t certain, but his instincts told him that the journey would be far more pleasing than the destination. @resiliencic

It was always a bit of a surprise when Clover contacted him and asked to hang out. Not that Ghost was the self-deprecating type, he was well aware of his own qualities and assets, but it just never seemed plausible to him that the boy still even remembered him.

He hadn’t been an avid customer of Clover, at least not in this form, as Kalani. He was never much of a partier. The flashing lights and the thumping music and the strangers, he wasn’t a big lover of that whole scene, yet he made his exceptions to such places with pretty people dancing because, come on, he’s only an oneiroi. As big of a hopeless romantic as he was, he could also enjoy watching mostly naked people dance. He was eclectic like that.

It never did cross his mind to try and make something more out of his interactions with Clover, that was the boy’s job. It was a wonderful job, and it excited Ghost very much, but he always thought it felt incredibly unrefined to propose anything more to a dancer -- and a bit sad, honestly. It was no different than thinking a bartender was your drinking buddy. So in the end, it always did surprise him that they could remain friends, as he couldn’t think of anything particularly special he’d done to stand out amongst the certain large array of Red Cross patrons that the vampire knew.

“I brought tiny marshmallows,” he offered once he made his way into Clover’s place, holding up the grocery shop bag to prove his point. “It ain’t proper hot cocoa without them.”

“Your bean water gives me a headache.” Aerith grimaced, kind of hypocritical from a girl who never met a tiramisu she didn’t like. She hid behind the claim that it was totally different, that the cream and sugar completely drown out the headache inducing taste of his favourite indulgence. But it didn’t change the fact she always wanted the last slice. 

Finishing her tea, she sealed the cup and put it back in her bag. “Are you headed to work soon?” 

It’s not the question she wants to ask, it was just the less vulnerable version of: do you want to spend time with me? Something her jaw clenched even at the thought of asking, not just Ghost but anyone.   “I’ll treat you to a cup, not that you deserve it.” 

Ghost shrugged, “not having bean water gives me a headache, so.” And that much was true. Despite not having many human characteristics to him, this was the one thing that had managed to break through his being -- the coffee addiction. Couldn’t get drunk with a barrel of wine, but could get dangerously shaky hands and a headache from not having enough coffee in the morning.

The question was one he understood by now, after five years of coexistence, better than he may have before. It wasn’t just a matter or wanting to know his schedule.

“You’d be insufferable,” She agreed, her tone heavy with affection despite her words. In truth the only reason she felt comfort enough to joke with him that way is because of what they’d been through. She’d snapped at him countless times and he hadn’t gone anywhere, god knows why. Aerith wasn’t unaware that in her shifted form (and occasionally this one) she could be a bit of an asshole, if only for self-preservation. 

A shrug came, lazy and compliant as she took a sip. “Or maybe we just have better taste. Coffee tastes like dirt water.” 

“Joke’s on you all, I already am,” Ghost shrugged, acting coy for the moment. It was a good thing oneiroi didn’t get to be wandering souls in this plane, otherwise he really would be quite the nuisance. Annoying everyone was already a big hobby of his, imagine if he had powers that helped.

His nose twisted again, but he laughed this time. “You’re delusional, come on. Tea tastes like dirty water. Dirty leaf water.  My bean water is vastly superior.”