|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jun 22, 2016 11:53 am
When they left the Hall of Shadows and traveled up the steps and into the expanse of the Dark Kingdom, Labyrinthite pressed his hand into the small of Wolfeite's back before they left and found themselves in the expansive building that was his home. The shift from Labyrinthite to Chase was smooth and he wasted no time in striding across the living room and into the bathroom down the hall to retrieve the medical kit he kept stored beneath the skin.
When he returned he gave the captain a curious look and a raised eyebrow as though he was expecting something. Then, his gaze shifted to the staircase that led to the bedrooms.
"We'll have to use your room, mine is currently occupied," Chase stated plainly and waiting for Archer to replace Wolfeite and for the glamoured guised man to make his way up the staircase. "I'd rather not waste time with a verbal squaller, if you behave I'll be inclined to reward you," he offered, following him up the stairs and to the room on the right of his own.
He would check on Levi later, he could see the blood seeping through the shirt Archer wore.
Chase let Archer enter first, then shut and locked the door behind him out of habit. Generally, no one opened a shut door without permission but he'd prefer to go uninterrupted when handling his wolf.
Whiskey colored eyes swept across the darkly decorated room; taking in the woodsy cutouts that melted into dark red, the collection of pillows, blankets and cushions in a corner opposite of the fire place Chase had installed near the sliding glass doors that let to a small balcony with blackout curtains draped across it, and the sparsely used bed beside a row of bookshelves.
Chase had spent an obscene amount of time designing the rooms, special care going into each and every renovation.
"Take off your shirt, sit on the bed." Orders, with no room for argument.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2016 6:41 am
His injuries were not terrible, but they were enough to be vexing and uncomfortable. Somewhere along the path, once they reached the house again, Wolfeite pulled the glamour over him, shifting back into the much lesser used guise of Archer Wren. It felt strange to be without the wolfish parts of him; they'd grown so much a part of him that he felt almost vulnerable now, weakened.
It was an unpleasant sensation. He gave Chase a somewhat annoyed look, displeased that his own room would have to be used for such a thing. Most of their dealings were done in the master suite, not Archer's room, which was it's own private space for him to spend time in.
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, refusing to take the bait. Archer pressed his lips together and pushed open the door to his room once they'd reached it, stepping inside and hearing the click of the lock as it shut behind Chase.
His back was throbbing, but the room was familiar and catered to his own liking, which Archer found agreeable, even if the bed was perhaps the least used item in the entire room. He reached down and slid the shirt off without much finesse, wincing slightly as it tugged at his scrapes, and dropped it over the end of the bed, Archer wordlessly taking a seat.
He was not going to rise to Chase's provocations. He was not.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2016 4:26 pm
Archer was correct in thinking that his injuries weren't severe, but Chase preferred to handle any wounds with first aid if need. Besides, it kept his agents from relying too heavily on starseed or energy orb consumption and with someone like Wolfeite he needed to keep that addiction on a tight leash. In that moment, Chase wondered if his recruits even understood what it meant to crush a starseed between molars.
To Chase's surprise, Archer complied without a biting word or any type of response outside of obedience. The shirt came off without a fuss and Chase didn't bother hiding the way his gaze swept over Archer's lean body. A hum of satisfaction left him as he cross the room and slid onto the bed beside the other man, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and one of his knees coming to press against Archer's thigh.
Chase shift his position enough so that Archer's hips were between his knees and he pressed a cold hand against the other man's back, fingers gently brushing against the reddened, torn skin of his back. "I held back a lot," he commented, traces of surprise in his tone as he pulled back, skin sticky with drying blood.
Rustling would be heard as he pulled out an antiseptic wipe and tore open the packaging. "It's going to sting," he stated, knowing that Archer would be aware of the dull pain but it'd been automatic, like much of what Chase did when tending to wounds. The cold, damp wipe was pressed against the wound, slight pressure applied by Chase as he methodically cleaned it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2016 5:30 pm
He felt a flush of annoyance cross his cheeks as Chase's gaze swept across him, Archer biting back the very strong urge to snap at him. He knew exactly what lay beneath those satisfied eyes of his, and the heat crept up his face, fingers curling tightly in the bedspread.
He was going to behave. He was going to follow the orders given to him so that he could get out of this ridiculously demeaning - and compromising - situation.
It was, however, becoming steadily easier to do just that: to bow and bend himself to Chase's will, to listen to Labyrinthite's commands, to obediently acquiesce to all of his requests. He remembered Domeykite's airy comment about how you're the one that follows Labyrinthite around and felt a second surge of irritation.
He bit it back, Archer tilting his gaze up, a hiss escaping from between clenched teeth as the pain shivered through him, and an urge to grasp Chase's hips and hold on was reeled in. It was a momentary thing; he had never been particularly weak to pain, and this was a mere papercut compared to his becoming a youma, or a few other fights following.
"If you hadn't held back, you could have taken off my head," said Archer flatly. "And what use would I be to you then?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2016 11:50 am
Chase noticed the way the blankets were crumpling beneath Wolfeite's hands but said nothing. Instead, he pressed the wipe more firmly against the cut before discarding it for a second one. Each of his swipes were methodical, careful and when he was done with a thorough cleaning he pulled out a clean gauze pad and used it to blot the blood still trickling.
Silence settled across them as his fingers ran along the wound, with Chase leaning in to examine it better with a slight hum. "Needs minor stitching," he voiced, fingers leaving Archer's back as he threaded a needle. He had minimal experience with stitching wounds, having had to do it to himself a few times, but the practice was easy and he'd spent plenty of time doing the research and watching enough videos to be confident in his abilities.
Chase didn't know how to do things in halves, but it occurred to him in that moment as the needle went through the first patch of skin, that it might be time to seek someone with more medical knowledge than his own for his use. All in due time he supposed. Perhaps he could task one of his newly minted captains with finding a lieutenant they could awaken.
"I would have avoided lethal blows," he stated, picking up the conversation after a short lull, rough fingers continuing to stitch with a surprising grace and gentleness. "But could have also done more surface damage."
Chase wondered if he'd gotten rustier with his scythe due to the lack of use in most battles. "You assume you're of great use to me now." It was a purposeful taunt, because Chase did find Archer to be of much use and the methods of training him had proven to be effective. There was progress. "We still have much work to do on that potential of yours."
Chase would break Archer then rebuild him, that he was certain of.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2016 9:15 pm
He remained stubbornly silent throughout the rest of Chase's ministrations, though every now and then a hiss would escape past Archer's clenched teeth. While the pain was not nearly as bad as it could have been - mostly stinging sensations and throbbing - the fact that he wasn't leaping forward to try and strangle Chase was a testament to his growth, at least, for the most part.
"I'm sure you could have," said Archer now, head tilted back a little as his fingers began to relax slightly on the bedspread. It remained crumpled and a little disheveled from his tightened grasp of earlier. "You held back enough that I wouldn't require a trip to the ER, which I assume is a point we'd all like to avoid."
He rarely spoke of the others in the pack, mostly because Archer remained deliberately distant of them when he was not required to be around them. He let his head fall forward again, the dark hair at the back of his neck shifting to reveal the sharp toothed tattoo imprinted there; a snarl in mid-bite.
You assume you're of great use to me now.
If he had been in his youma form, he would have snarled, leapt forward and bitten. As it was, Archer's head snapped up, anger flashing across his expression, his lip curled back in a sneer.
"I am useful," he snapped. "I am capable of things the others are not."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2016 11:22 pm
Archer had buttons that Chase liked to find and push, which was something he was doing now. He enjoyed watching the brunet seethe and struggle, even when he lashed out. It gave him the ability to put the wolf in his place.
"That depends on the lesson I'm teaching you," came his quick retort.
He finished sewing the stitches, cut the thread and tied it off neatly before returning the supplies back to their rightful places, cleaning the needle before it was replaced. "Do well to avoid tearing the stitches." His forefinger ran down the tended wound, a smirk sliding across his mouth as he could practically feel the irritation radiating off of Archer when the insult hit him.
Chase's head tilted, edges of his mouth curled upward in a taunting grin with his hands splaying behind him so he could sit back in a relaxed position. He clearly didn't feel threatened by Archer's aggression, confident in his ability to subdue the other man as needed. "I never said you didn't have your uses," Chase sneered, whiskey eyes sweeping across Archer's frame.
"But pray tell wolf, what uses do you have for me?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 6:29 pm
He let out a snort, angry and defiant in spite of everything, but bit it back, swallowed the rising fury as though it were a remark that he was holding back on. He was not Wolfeite at present; he was Archer Wren, the civilian, and even if it was just a glamour, like this he was not as capable, vulnerable while keeping the youma half of him hidden.
He did not like feeling less. The wolf was a part of him now; he had embraced it, nurtured it, grown it so that it was fused into him, body, soul, and mind. Without it, he was weaker and more pathetic, and he had no intention of returning to that state of existence.
Archer tossed his head, glowering at Chase as he leaned onto his hands. His back throbbed a little, but otherwise was not too painful. Dark eyes fixed upon the whiskey colored ones, intense and unyielding in his sense of importance and intent.
"I do as you ask," he snapped. "I have followed your orders, and I have been your dog. I have strength that the others do not have and can never hope to acquire. I have turned what was deemed an affliction into a source of power that can be harnessed for the good of the Negaverse."
Archer's eyes narrowed.
"I am better."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2016 10:50 pm
Chase looked, and definitely felt, smug when Archer snorted angrily. In fact, he arched a brow in a manner that was challengingly. "You don't do anything the others don't," he replied, shoulders rolling in a shrug. "Or that they're not capable of, except perhaps point out that none of them would be foolish enough to ignore my warnings as you did."
He highly doubted that Tourmaline or Aluminite or Dia would ever go seeking to best youma to prove a point or to ever seek the life of a half-youma.
He knew Zircon would do whatever it took to keep from that type of life, they'd talked about it. He'd fight to keep her from living that life but Archer - Wolfeite - had lost that because of arrogance. "The use of the descriptor affliction depends on the person." Becoming a half-youma had saved Tanzanite's life and it was something that Cinnabar commanded and owned.
"Your...condition is not, from my knowledge, something someone actively seeks but rather something they learn to deal with because they have no other choice. You are not revolutionary. You do not control the wolf like you seem to think you do." Each word was sharp and pointed, as Chase wasn't pulling any punches. He didn't know what happened when Cinnabar became bonded with the youma that lived within her and, in truth, his knowledge of Tanzanite's merge was fuzzy at best but he saw what they did, how they coped.
The man sitting on the bed with him wasn't special.
"Your desire to remain desperately in control is your achilles heel Archer," Chase said, sounding at ease and relaxed. "Your arrogance is a weakness. You've learned plenty, but still not enough." He sat up, legs folding in a criss-cross fashion and he laced his fingers when he leaned forward. "You're not better than any of them."
And you're certainly not better than me.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 10:40 am
The more that Chase spoke, the more that the irritation seemed to rise in Archer's veins. He felt the heat across his cheeks, the flush of shame and embarrassment and indignation startlingly red, his chest heaving for breath that was short and staccato.
You don't do anything the others don't do.
It was a lie, Archer thought, as he stared at Chase. It was a lie that he was considered somehow on the same level as anyone else. He was so much more; he'd taken ahold of the wolf inside of him and he'd made it his own, had not let it drag him down, but instead had let it take him and he had taken it in return.
And Chase knew. Chase knew what he was, knew what it was that he was capable of, and how to control him. Archer knew, on some base level, that it was to this man that he subjected himself to, purposefully, because he needed him in a way that angered him. The fact that he had to answer to someone else galled him.
But it was necessary, and they both knew he would not walk away - could not walk away, as angry as he might be for it.
The rise of his temper was bitten back; Chase was baiting him, and Archer was not going to rise to it, because he knew what would happen if he did. He swallowed back, with some effort, the retorts, the violent thoughts of his claws sinking into skin, of teeth tasting blood on his tongue.
He wanted power. He wanted all of it. And to get that, he had to do what he had to do.
Archer slid off of the bed, and stood beside it, staring down at Chase. Slowly, as though every movement pained him, teeth gritted, he crouched down, one knee on the ground, his hand curled into a fist beside it, his head bowed towards the other man.
"Then teach me," he growled, and he knew what this was costing him, fighting the urge to straighten and stand. This was the path he had inadvertently chosen; this was what was necessary for him, even if he hated himself for it.
"I am yours to command."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 11:27 am
Chase looked impassive and terribly relaxed from his spot on the bed, watching the flurry of emotions surge through Archer. Archer thought his words to be a lie whereas Chase found them to be absolute truth. Especially when considering how he treated all of the members of his team. While his personal preferences were more obvious, as a general he treated all of his recruits the same when it came to training and instruction.
Wolfeite was no better than the rest of them, in fact, his volatile nature could even be argued to rank him lower and less than the others. Yet, the arrogant captain was responding to Chase's handling and that counted for something no matter how small.
As long as the half-youma in civilian guise bent his knee to Chase, Labyrinthite, then that was all that mattered.
Chase chin tipped up, lips pressed together, and generally looking unimpressed when Archer slid off the bed and dared to stare down at him. He was confident in his ability to flip the situation if needed but then -
Archer sunk to his knees before him with his head bowed. Interesting, Chase thought. Intrigued, he sat up and appeared to contemplate what his wolf was asking, what Wolfeite was relinquishing for this. In the end, with his hands folded in his lap and his legs crossed, a sharp toothed grin spread across Chase's mouth.
I am yours to command, Archer swore.
So, "And mine you will stay," was Chase's response.
Scooting forward on the bed, Chase let his legs unfold and hang off the side with his knees spread so there was space for Archer's body between them. His hands separated and one reached to hook a finger beneath the brunet's chin and tipped his head up. "If you wish to learn, then it's a life long sentence." He didn't doubt that Archer had understood when he knelt. "But you have been good and I'm inclined to reward you. What would you like pup?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 11:49 am
It was galling, really.
Subjecting himself to the will of another person was one thing; subjecting himself entirely to the will of someone like Chase Black - General Labyrinthite - was something else entirely. The man before him, above him, held the reigns to everything that was necessary to progress, and submitting himself meant giving up control.
Something that Archer had never once in his life done before, not in this way. Not when it meant surrendering himself to the likes of a man who wouldn't hesitate before cutting off his head, who's sneers and smirks and tendency towards violence and dominance were something that would normally make Archer fight back. And he did, at times, aggressively and angrily.
But now was not the time. Things were different.
Things had changed, and he had to do what would gain him the most benefit, even if it meant giving in to something he had never wanted to give in before. There was no turning back now; this was a decision set in stone, and there would be no changing it.
And mine you will stay.
A hand dipped beneath his chin, tilting his head up, and Archer found himself looking up into the sharply grinning face of Chase, the whiskey eyes that burned into his.
"Yes," hissed Archer, through clenched teeth. "Sir."
He shifted, unfolding himself, and eased himself up with a hand on both of Chase's knees. Archer slid a leg onto the bed beside him, and then the other, until he was straddling his hips, hands moving to rest on Chase's shoulders, fingers linked behind his neck.
"You should know," he said, voice a low growl, but not one of aggression - of submission. "Exactly what I want."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 2:19 pm
Satisfaction was something Chase strongly felt when their gazes locked and Archer caved, just like he knew he would. His eyes darkened as Archer pushed himself up, palms warm on his knees and Chase had to bite back the, who told you you could get up that poised itself on his tongue. His wolf pup had been well behaved, conceded that he was but a mere puppet with string for only Chase to pull as needed.
He'd allow him this, even if he'd make Archer admit what he wanted.
Knees slid against Chase's hip and soon enough there was a man settled comfortably in his lap. His head tipped back so he could keep watching Archer's face as his hands slid, palms down, up Archer's thighs until they skimmed his hipbones and came to rest against the small of his back. "Of course I know," he said smugly, rough palm slipping beneath the hem of Archer's shirt to press against bare skin.
He leaned forward enough so that his mouth pressed faintly against the column of Archer's neck. It was more of a ghost touch than anything else, with Chase tilting his face away just enough that all Archer could feel was his breath on his kin. "But if you want something, I'm afraid you're going to have to learn to ask for it, no matter how much of a good boy you've been."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
