#coatcharmer

It was natural for comrades to be this close, wasn’t it? After surviving so much together. That was what Locke might tell himself, when he was feeling delusional. But he knew better– he’d spent a long time in the trenches with a number of men and women, and they didn’t share this type of closeness with one another.

The ease with which he spoke to Faris, touched him, was unlike anything he’d shared with… almost anyone before. And he didn’t even care to put a name to it, when Faris responded so easily in kind. Better to just enjoy it for now, when they were alone with one another, miles, days, weeks away from ‘home,’ or whatever passed for it. Then things would change, he was sure. He’d become a wanderer again. Alone.

“It might be a rough hike,” Locke, who was in no hurry, replied. “Will your men miss you too badly if you take the safer route?”

“I shouldn’t think so?” It was a lie of course, and something small in Faris’s gut twinged at speaking it. Rouke would be in fits by now, though they trusted him to keep the others placated. Even if they were searching, Rouke would keep every one calm, working together. 

Idly they stroked his wrist, their thumb smoothing back and forth over that tender skin with no concious thought. Locke simply felt right beneath their hands. If they concentrated they could almost feel the flutter of his pulse against their finger tips. 

With a small sigh, they looked over the map, a tiny furrow to their brows. 

This, with him, shouldn’t come so easily, and yet there they were, touching and feeling and comfortable. It should have disturbed them, should have risen flags within their mind, but they felt light, free. They almost felt content. 

Across the room from them, at the small table, sits a young girl, no older than eight. She’s dressed in a fine flannel dress, mary janes kicking the air as she takes crayons to a piece of paper. She, unlike the adults in the room, doesn’t seem at all bothered by the goings-on.

“So… I was hired to pick up a package and it, uh, was a human package,” Locke says. “Apparently her parents are going through a rough divorce. Her father’s a politician and her mother’s… well… something about a crime family… I didn’t get to hear the whole story ‘cuz a sniper shot her handler and we had to skedaddle in a hurry.”

   “ CUTE. ”

   Of course it would be a case such as this, one which she    could have no familiar grounds to argue against. With a    career choice of mercenary work, the silver haired lady    truly had no leg to stand on in reprimanding a thief of    stealing a child, when she herself had done worse in the    name of politics and crime. [ after all, her kind worked for    whoever had the most money, not whoever had the best    morals. ]

   Nonetheless, if such a life was unsuitable for a ‘woman’,    then it would especially be unsuitable for a child [ no matter    what gender ]. what were they supposed to do with a child ??    raise it ??

They tried not to lean into the touch, to simple focus on the maps laid out before them, a finger tracing the lip of their mug, idly. Somehow, somewhere along the way touch had become almost easy between them. He was tactile, Faris had discovered. He liked texture, touched anything he thought would feel interesting. 

He liked their hair in particular. 

What Faris wants the most is unconditional love and acceptance. After a life of hiding, of being told they aren’t good enough, after a childhood of waiting to be rescued by parents that were never coming--

Faris wants the privilege of feeling safe around another human being. They want the security of knowing that there’s someone out there who wont hurt them, or leave them, or find them wanting - that there’s someone out there who wont try to change them. 

They want the security of someone they can trust to be vulnerable around. 

In their “profession,” of course, they expected some degree of risk. While Locke preferred to keep his less than legal activities on the subtle side, there was no avoiding the attentions of people who profited off of squealing. And squealed they had. Locke was supposed to meet an influential buyer of some curiosities he had stowed away.

Instead, he found himself face to face with the city guard. They expected to have him cornered, but Locke never walked into a room he didn’t know four ways out of. Four soldiers, armed to the teeth, chased the treasure hunter through city streets crowded by night time revelers. At the first opportunity, he took to the rooftops, as drunks hollered and pointed at the spectacle. Only two of the watchpeople were nimble enough to keep up the chase.

At this rate, if he couldn’t ditch them, he’d have to leave the city entirely. Killing them was not an option he wanted to pursue. Surely Faris would catch wind of the mess and know Locke hadn’t abandoned them– right?

It was nearing three in the morning by the time that Faris had worn a groove in the floorboards, each step creaking precariously underfoot. Worry filled them, happy bed mates with dread and impending doom. It made them twitch, made their fingers curl and uncurl as their breath caught in their throat. 

Where was he?! 

They stared at the door as though it held all the answers. 

“Don’t be dead.” They whispered. “Please don’t be dead.” It was a little, tiny prayer, said with such honesty that it hurt. “I like y’ too much for y’ to be dead--”

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i’ll tell you the following;

No longer accepting!

my opinion on;

character in general: I actually didn’t like Locke until I started talking with you. I always saw him as the annoying thief-- sorry treasure hunter guy who I had to use till the others came a long. Now I adore him and he is in fact one of my strongest characters in my current play throughhow they play them: You made me love Locke that probably says a lot for how I feel you play him. I love the headcanons you gave him, I love the accent, I love the little quirks and I love the thoughts you have put into how he uses and experiments with magic.the mun: You’ve put up with me through so many of my muses now I am sure! (tho I can only remember interacting with you here and on Porom atm, maybe Larsa? or on Freya...? Idk) But the fact I keep following you on my accounts probably shows how much I adore you and your muse <3

do i;

follow them: YESrp with them: YESwant to rp with them: ALWAYSship their character with mine: BROS namely troublemaking bros >B)

what is my;

overall opinion: <3