#lamentingicarus

Breathe.

Ira took in a sharp breath, doing his best to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. ‘It’ll be easy once it starts,’ he told himself in his head despite the way he suppressed his trembling in the crowd of people surrounding him. 

‘You have nothing to lose,’ his inner dialogue continued, his breathing relaxing a little. ‘You just have to do your part to get your brother. That’s it. That’s it. Focus on that,’ ira tensed again when someone behind him tripped and stumbled into him. His eyes caught the stare of two of the others staged in the crowd, and they had a moment of acknowledgement with their subtle glances at one another. 

Ira cracked his neck, leaning his head to one side then the other to relieve his anxiousness, but it was for little avail. He knew that he could do this. His fear of being arrested were null after plenty of tedious, hard training that proved to him that bulletproof vests, riot shields and guns couldn’t stop him. His powers were strong. Stronger than he ever realized. So strong that when he was pushed past his limit and survived, it scared him a little.

So why was he so nervous? Why did this feel wrong? Everyone else here seemed ready for this. Hell, to some, it was a competition.

Ira took in a deep breath. It didn’t matter. He had orders. 

The muscles in his jaw tensed as he pulled a mask out of his pocket to prepare himself, turning it over in his hands like he did his troubled thoughts.

Who’s the messiest one:

Um they’re messy in different ways. William is more likely to leave things on the floor though

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA:

William

Who’s the funniest drunk:

Hye? It’s funny when William is drunk but not like funny-funny

Who texts the most:

Hye

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music:

Hye? William’s is more snobby than embarrassing

Who reads the most:

William

Who’s better with kids:

Probably Hye

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house:

Someone they pay to fix things

Who’s got the weirdest hobby:

Not sure either of them has hobbies, per se

Who cooks and who cleans up:

Silas hummed to himself. A vacant expression left his facial gestures unreadable, like a thought had such a vigorous hold on his attention that he’d withdrawn entirely within himself, separated from the outside world. His lithe fingertips played thoughtlessly with the seams of the chair he lounged in, waiting patiently for his boss --  his colleague -- no, his friend to arrive at the private lounge for drinks and business.

There was distinctly tired look in his eyes, which was unlike his usual bright and energetic demeanor. Some of Alexander’s needs required him to squeeze out as many hours awake as he could, and at times, meant not resting at all with the means of coffee and caffeine pills to ensure that sleep didn’t risk him slipping away. He had things in order so that he could be gone for a few days without consequence in his operations, but he was met with resistance, now. The other was trying to fight back.

It was time to come clean about it, and ask for help. Silas prided himself for ability to resolve problems on his own -- it was his innate gift, after all -- but in this, if he were to be of full use to Alexander, he needed his help.

When the tall Asian man entered, Silas rose to greet him. “I apologize for my absence the last week,” he said, drawing his lips together into a thin line briefly, personally annoyed at his lack of control over the situation. The expression in his eyes held true remorse and lamentation; this was not an excuse. There was an obstacle in his way. “I’m afraid my time is very limited and sporadic lately.”