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 Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 10:08 pm
 Friends with Benefits: Part V
Her name was Ellie—or Elsa, or Ella, or Ulla, or something like that. It was terribly hard to hear, but she didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at him around her second drink, turned toward him on a bar stool, her long legs crossed. She sat straight, and her dress—tight and structured and plunging—seemed never to move, like it was painted onto her.
“So you live AND work in a bakery?” she was saying. “Ooo… that sounds dangerous.”
“It’s not that dangerous when the ninjas don’t come around,” said Cesc with a grin, his hands low, cradling a half-drunk beer. He was facing her fully, his eyes on hers, giving her his full attention. “We usually get by.”
Ulla laughed and dipped her head, pulling her drink’s straw toward her with her tongue. “Oh, good. Yeah, those ninjas! Can’t go out to a coffee without one popping out of the bushes.”
“It’s an epidemic,” said Cesc solemnly. “Someone should really do something about it, really.”
Ulla laughed again and Cesc cracked a smile. “You’re cute,” she said.
“I’m trying, at least,” he replied, and she leaned over, deeper than she needed to, lifting a hand to tuck an unruly curl in his eyes back into his bangs.
“Succeeding,” she corrected. Up close, her eyes were the color of storm clouds, flicked with the same greys and blues and textured black. She didn’t move away again after her hand fell away, and she let it rest atop his wrist. Cesc’s heart began to beat quick and strong against his ribs.
“You’re such a gentleman,” she said, her voice thick as honey. “You haven’t looked down my dress even once.”
“Maybe you just haven’t caught me,” he countered, his throat dry but his voice strong. She let out a laugh, and her hand smoothed the back of his. He let go of his beer with one of his hands and their fingers linked.
“I hoped you weren’t letting that chance go by,” she said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty hot.”
“I noticed,” Cesc said. He wet his lips. She was terrifically close and magnetic and he was drawing toward her unconsciously. He grinned, boyish. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s not subtle.”
Her gaze flicked downward, toward his lips. “I’m feeling kind of hungry,” she said. “Maybe you should show me this bakery of yours.”
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 10:11 pm
Friends with Benefits: Part VI The dress wasn’t painted on. It came off, and it came off easily, with the thrip of a zipper and the falling of fabric, and Cesc’s breath went out of him when it did. Ulla seemed pleased by how the wind went out of him, her fingers diligently working the buttons of his shirt as he stopped, looking down at her with his eyes full of shock and reverence and lust.
“You see heaven?” she murmured. She took a step back, although her hands were still halfway down his opened shirt and chest, and stepped out of the puddle her dress had become, still in her heels.
Cesc said nothing, his lips parted. He went forward, closing the distance between them, his mouth on hers. He could feel her smile into the kiss and she swept her tongue into his mouth, hot and wet and velvet. It sent his head into blackness and blinking stars, into a heady warmth and urgency like he’d never felt before. He kissed her with abandon, like she would disappear.
Her hands were under his shirt, and he pulled away for long enough to pull it over his head and toss it aside. Ulla laughed and sat on the edge of his bed, her legs uncrossed, her high heels making them seem even longer. Cesc stood over her, his hair tousled and mouth open and cheeks ruddy, chest rising and falling, and drank in the view.
“You don’t do this much,” she said, leaning back on her elbows. She seemed pleased. “Or I’m just that hot.”
“It can’t be both?” said Cesc breathlessly.
“It can be both,” she allowed. Her eyes were tracing him, the curves of the muscles on his arms, and the tautness of his stomach. “I’m just trying to figure out why you keep staring and don’t come over here. You need an invitation?”
“I’m going to need to remember this later,” he said, obediently coming forward.
She laughed, throwing back her head.
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 10:16 pm
 Friends Without Benefits
Zuri sees something she shouldn't *
April, 2016
10 a.m.
It was Sunday open, and the early spring sun was streaming through the windows. It was still too cold for going to the beach, and the walkways were mostly empty as they usually were until just before noon. A cab idled beside the sidewalk in front of the bakery.
The residence door at the side of the building swung open, and a tall dark elf emerged, smiling sunnily, wearing a strappy bodycon dress and platformed high heels that looked like they could kill. She had a clutch purse in one hand and a to-go coffee in the other. Her hair was loose and straight around her face, but a close look could still see the indentations of where a hair band had held the strands in place for a long time the night before. Despite her unconventional Sunday garb, the elf was smiling, and she turned back toward the bakery with one hand up above her eye line to shield herself from the sun's glare.
Saturday night had been good to Zuri; one of her friends from an exercise class had invited her to a silly makeup party, and what had been supposed to be a selling party for the poor saleslady had turned into a group of six young women, each with a glass of wine, giggling as they tried on progressively more garish makeup. In the end, Zuri had selected and purchased a face-cleanser set that had made even her soft blue-toned skin glow with a healthy flush, and then, a couple of different shades of lipstick.
Today she was glowing with the leftovers of good company as she came out. She wanted to share her good mood, to show off her 'new look', lips painted prettily with a soft, deep blue lipstick. Zuri had worn her birthday present, and as she floated toward the bakery, she found herself craning her neck slightly to see what was happening, wanting to make an entrance.
However, she stopped short as she saw the door open, and the woman exit the building. A line appeared between her brows, and she hesitated, head tilted. Zuri didn't go any further. Who was she? She didn't know that woman, and the dark elf was striking enough that she would have remembered if she had met her.
It was too far away to hear just what the elf was saying, but she was certainly talking, gesturing behind her to the waiting cab.
From the threshold of the bakery, a familiar figure drifted out: Cesc, dressed in a ball cap and a black, flour-dotted shirt and apron. He was smiling, his arms open, and the dark elf tossed back her head and laughed. She took a step forward into his arms and hooked one arm around his neck. As he was patting her back and went to pull away, she tilted her head into the space between them and kissed him.
They parted, she waving behind her as she stepped into the cab, him lingering at the doorway for a moment before taking a breath, grabbing the handle and shutting the door behind him.
Zuri watched her go, and then she watched him go inside. The happy confidence of the morning was quite suddenly and emphatically deflated; it was like the air had gone out of her, as if someone had wrapped an enormous fist around her chest and squeezed, crumpled vital bits inside her and left them unable to reinflate. She felt as if she had been punched, hard, as if the world had suddenly tilted on its axis and she was the only one that had noticed.
She wanted to throw something, she wanted to bite, to claw, as anger and frustration and jealousy coiled up tight and hard in her belly. How dare she, whoever she was? That thought was immediately followed by, how dare he? Didn't he know --
Didn't he know what?
Zurine was frozen where she floated. A thin frost was creeping on her skin, and she rubbed at it with her palm, needing the grounding when she felt unreal, so stunned that she felt as if she would come unanchored from the world, as if she might simply float off into space. She turned herself around stiffly, and left. There was no way she could face them now, not any one of them, and she didn't want pastries that badly anyway. She felt ashamed of herself for expecting anything.
--
Zuri had no right to be angry, no right at all, and she knew that. But as she arrived back at home, the door still slammed behind her. Her shoulder bag whumphed softly down on the couch, and she didn't bother to care if her phone was all right or not. Who else bothered to text? Who called her but him and Phiel?
She wanted to not be angry, she really did. Phiel was still asleep, and it was best to keep it that way, even if Zurine felt as if the world was caving in at the edges. What would she say if she did have someone to complain to -- that Cesc had kissed a her that wasn't her -- a her that Zuri didn't know, grown, beautiful, long-legged? A her that a part of Zuri said she couldn't blame him for kissing, that Zuri might have kissed too if she had been given the opportunity. Given the choice between her own pale reflection and the dark, lustrous vision of a woman that she had watched leave, god, Zuri knew who was the most appealing choice. Her hands were closed on the arm of the sofa as she stared out the window at the sea, her eyes dry, tearless. The spring sunshine was bright on the water, sending icy shards of light up the beach in reflection, and Zurine was not crying, she was not --
She made herself take a breath after a moment, rusty and grinding around the ache in her chest, and then another, and the second was easier. So he had kissed her, whoever she was. Zurine turned that thought over in her head, then turned it over again. Was it just a kiss? Was it a kiss and breakfast? Was it a kiss and breakfast and a night over...? More? She could see in her mind's eye still his hand curved at her back, the delicate crook of her dark arm around his neck, the kiss, the lush grace of her body as she turned away, the light in his eyes and the way he lingered when she left --
Ice was spreading on the arm of the couch, her painted nails digging into the cloth as her frost crisped it, and Zurine swore sharply as the ice threatened her skin, pulling her hands away. Her voice felt dry, everything in her throat tight. She shook her head. It did no good to let those thoughts roll around in her head, getting sharper and sharper with each pass, layers of detail clearing as she damned her owl-eyed vision.
He was not hers. Zuri knew that. She had no shred of claim on kisses that she hadn't had in months. But the memory of her birthday was fresh in her mind. The memory of New Year's Eve was highlighted in golden effervescence and snow, in the way he had kissed her then. Zurine had thought that maybe he wanted her too; had she been wrong? Was there too much between them now for that to ever be the case?
It didn't matter, she told herself sternly, quelling the wild yawn of cold fury in her belly. He didn't belong to her. They weren't dating. He had every right to kiss whomever he wanted. They had tried that, and it had been Zurine's fault that it failed in the end, whether it had been voluntary or not. It made no difference. It was her fault that she had spent the next summer empty and aching with hunger --
-- don't remember how kind he was, how she still slept in the shirt he had dressed her in when he had rescued her --
-- don't think about the way he had looked at her when she had grown --
-- don't obsess over all the little things that had happened between then and today, chances they had missed or avoided or sidestepped, opportunities they'd left behind --
Zurine loved Rhedefre. It had always been that way. Whether he loved her too was the question, wasn't it? In the end, of course. She couldn't help holding onto the questions in her mind, and she left her cell phone in her bag. Sunday passed, and she went out for dinner with Nara and Phiel. The more she thought about it the colder she felt, her stomach frozen in a knot of anger and confusion and hurt, solid and hard. Zurine had never been so angry in all of her life, and even when she went to bed on Sunday night, hours later than usual, her phone was still in her purse, the battery dead.
Monday morning came, and her early wakeup for work brought with it a little clarity. As she was getting her things together for her shower, she sidled up to her purse as if it contained a live snake, retrieving her phone with ginger distaste. She didn't look at the screen as she took it back into her room and plugged it in, laying it on its face as she went into the bathroom. She didn't want to know if she had missed any calls or texts yet. She had to think clearly about this, and if she saw his contact picture on her screen, she didn't know what she would do. Would she want to grab his stupid, beautiful face and kiss the taste of that woman from his mouth, or would she want to throw something at him?
As she showered, she considered what she could do, now that she could think a little around the anger. The cool spray of the shower doused her, and the smell of rose and mint filled the room as she scrubbed her scalp, thick dollops of foam tracing their way down her back between her folded wings as she searched for some small peace. What was the point in speculating, before she talked to him? Zuri had known Cesc for so long that no matter how angry she was, she couldn't just ice him out forever. It wasn't fair not to ask, and it wasn't fair to drag it out. If he wanted her, and not Zuri, then she wanted those words face to face. For as long as she had loved him, as much as they had gone through together, they owed each other a clean cut if a cut was to be made. Even if that thought was agony, it was clear, it was fair, wasn't it?
She emerged from the shower wrapped in a towel and girded to the best of her ability with all the familiar swan act of steady chill grace that she could muster, her insides still cold and vibrating with leashed emotion. With her hair and wings still dripping, Zuri flopped down on her bed, reached for her phone with her wet hair spread out on the blankets. The battery had gotten enough charge during her shower to turn on, and bring up her homescreen -- a stupid selfie that she and Phiel and Nara had taken at a birthday lunch a few weeks ago, her guardian's eyes bright and Nara's grin wide and her own face glowing with happiness.
Her text inbox was empty. So was her call log. Absolute radio silence. Her hands were steady and her chest cold as she brought up their text thread, trying not to look at his contact image, trying not to think too hard about this. If she couldn't do this, then Zuri couldn't ever say she was holding a torch for him again. If she couldn't confront him about this, then she had to move on and stop acting like she was still a child pining over a pair of sunrise-gold eyes and a smile that lit the damned sky and a voice that untied the knots in her chest.
She hesitated only a moment, and then thumbed with careful deliberation into the text box, We need to talk.
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 10:19 pm
Friends Without Benefits II
Zuri and Cesc hash it out *
April, 2016
It was nearly five o' clock by the time Zuri made it to the bakery. Nara had offered to drive her after they closed the office down, but Zuri wanted the time to herself to think about what she wanted to say to Cesc when she got there, to think about her responses. The day at work had been hectic, and Zurine was fully not in the state of mind to cope with it; with this evening looming over her head, she had spent all day more than ruffled. Her feathers stood out from her back and some of the patients that she had become chatty with asked her if she was well. She had laughed it off as best she could, but as the bakery came level with her vision, Zuri didn't know if she could have possibly felt less like laughing.
She came to the door and pushed it open daintily, her fingers still cold enough from restrained emotion to leave frost on the glass of the door, and she slipped in. The familiar place seemed stranger now, though she supposed it must have been only her that felt it. She was dressed neatly and conservatively from work, a long patterned skirt that gave her the appearance of having something below the hip, a camisole and a cardigan. Though she had developed a tendency to dress in soft pinks and blues and flowers to compliment her coloring, she wore none of it now, her hair pinned up off her face soberly though tendrils had escaped. She wouldn't have thought it would matter what she wore, but going a touch more dramatic than her usual almost-not-there makeup had made her feel bolder, more serious -- Zuri had even worn a touch of berry-red lipstick, and she did her best to hold her head up high, radiating chill and looking much more a force to be reckoned with than she felt with her stomach tied in knots from anger and hurt and resolve.
Rhedefre had waited at various points in the day to learn in more detail about what it was that Zurine wanted to talk about--but as no text came, he became absorbed in his work, and then getting some exercise in. And it wasn't until he checked his phone at 4 as he went up to shower that he reminded himself that Something was coming for him.
It hadn't been a particularly good day. It had started with the cryptic text and continued on with a few difficult customers and a mother-of-the-bride who insisted she ordered something she hadn't (and didn't want to pay for.) Sword lessons were putting him behind with baseball--which was just around the corner--and Cesc felt he couldn't do both without letting one or the other slide, and one of them had Xiu's hopes wrapped up in it.
But his mood hadn't completely soured yet. In fact, there was a part of him that felt strangely elated, free. He'd gotten laid. He'd gone out, talked to a woman, and gotten laid--and there was no substitute for the kind of confidence that gave a man.
So, freshly showered and in a soft grey raglan, waiting for Zurine behind the counter while reading his phone, was Cesc. The bakery still had a half-hour before close, but many customers had filtered out already, and Shepard was busy wiping down some tables in preparation to start closing.
As Zurine entered, Cesc looked up, half-smiling, but the expression did not grow as he saw her. She did not, as he had somewhat suspected, look happy.
"Hey," he called.
Looking up at him, Zuri felt her stomach drop a bit, and she let out a breath. Great, good, perfect, she still wasn't sure whether she wanted to kiss him or hit him, and quite suddenly she was angry at herself, too, maybe even more than she was angry at him. How dare he wear that shirt and smile that smile and generally be infuriatingly impossible to not love?
She drew up a little short, hesitant, and bit her lower lip. "Hi," Zuri said, and then smiled, but it fell flat. "I... need to talk to you. Sorry I couldn't do it over text, it's. Kind of important."
"Oh." Cesc's shoulders slowly began to slope as she spoke, his arms falling and his fingers gently drumming the countertop. He frowned, quickly looking over at Shepard--who was, as always, minding his own damn business, thank you--and waved Zurine over the counter partition.
Was she having trouble eating again? Was Phiel being a monstrously ineffective d**k? Cesc turned over possibilities in his mind as he led the way into the kitchen and waved Zurine toward one of the stainless steel stools.
"You okay?" He asked. "Need any water or anything?"
She followed, and watching the back of him, she felt all her well-considered words draining away as if she'd kept her argument in a sieve. Standing before him now, Zurine thought that it sounded nearly unbearable to say the words she'd been thinking since this morning. "I'm fine," she said as she eased to a seat on the stool, grateful for the chill of it through her skirt, bolstering. "What I want to talk to you about is -- well. I was coming yesterday morning to visit you." She tried to keep her tone calm, even, steady. "At about ten? And--" she felt as if everything in her chest was vibrating, "I saw you. And I saw -- a woman. Leaving here. You kissed her." Her voice was flat, her expression carefully shielded, the only thing betraying her emotion a riotous flush of soft color high in her cheeks that darkened slowly. "Or she kissed you. I don't know."
Cesc stiffened. His shoulders tightened and the blood drained from his face as she spoke, feeling as though a burst of Zurine's ice went flooding through his veins. His lips parted and he started a half-formed apology, his brain sputtering--he hadn't meant for her to see, he hadn't--
Wait.
Cesc frowned then, the blood warming again, color returning with fervor to his face. He was not going to feel bad about this. He refused, categorically, to feel bad.
"Yeah," he said. His voice was even, held tightly. "Yes. That's right."
She opened her mouth to speak, but there again was the crushing fist in her chest, and Zuri didn't have the air to respond a moment. She bit her lip, made her hands unclench from the cloth of her skirt, though frost left the fabric slightly bunched. "Am I not supposed to feel upset about that? What... what am I supposed to feel?" She said it slowly, searchingly, her voice steady with anger though her eyes were just a hair too bright. "Am I supposed to just let go and tell you to enjoy her? Is that -- is she what you want?"
Her eyes were dry, her heart pounding against her breastbone, as if it might escape. The question that went unspoken, after that, was, do you not want me ?
Oh, my God." Cesc's voice was rough, hard on the edges. His jaw was tight and there was a sudden dark hollowness under his eyes as he looked at her. He was staring at Zurine with an unrestrained wonder, and it took him a moment to control himself. One of his hands went to his face, his fingertips digging into his eyebrow. "No. No way. You are not allowed to do this. You're not allowed to make me feel like an a*****e any time that you want. That's not how it works."
He leaned forward, dropping his hand and putting an index finger on the steel counter between them. His voice was angry and low and clear, barely controlled, and there was no calmness to his aura. That was gone, broken completely, and there was a roughness to his words, his eyes--even his hair, his antlers, that seemed new. "You can't do that. You forfeited your right to make me feel like a d**k for being with someone else when you ghosted the s**t out of me when we were together."
Her jaw set, and her eyes widened, the ice-crisp feathers of her wings flaring slowly out as she watched him work himself up, as if from a distance.
"So you are still angry at me for being depressed," Zurine said, her own words bitten off and cold. "Never mind the fact that I happen to recall the fact that Phiel got a call the year before that when you were depressed! And that I came and spent how long with you? Because I wanted to! Because I l-- because you deserved care and affection. And I seem to remember you not calling me either, if you want to bring that up!"
She swallowed down the rising frustration, bitter in her throat, and some of the ice-calm was fading. "And I am in no way trying to make you feel like an a*****e, I just want to know what you want from me!" She laid her hand on the counter, and almost immediately cold began to spread out from it. "If the way you feel about me has changed... are you really this angry at me?"
Cesc was barely able to listen to her, and more than once he had to bite off a retort in the middle of her speech. His fingers clenched into a fist on the table, and his shoulders were immovably tense.
"This is not about who owes whom," he snarled. A curl fell onto his forehead as he moved, his ears swiveled forward, his eyes bright with emotion. "This is not about keeping a goddamn score about who did what for whom and when and about what shitty circumstance. Yeah, you got called! Yes, I am pissed the ******** off that Phiel didn't tell me you were depressed. And it is s**t that you were. I hate that you were. But that does not get you off the hook for freezing me out like you did. It does not make me magically feel worthwhile again." He was starting to get hot, almost dizzy, keeping his voice from pitching in volume. "And excuse me, in all your radio silence and ignoring me, for not wanting to reach out after that. I'm sorry you were sick, Zuri, but you've been trying to get away from the fact that you made me feel like d**k since you came back and made ME into the a*****e in front of everyone-- and now you're here, pissed off that, what, I cheated on you? I have no idea what you want. Yes, I'm angry! Geezus, can you seriously not see why?"
Anger and hurt burst through her chest, and Zuri stood, the stool pushing away behind her with a protesting screech. Her eyes were wet. "How many times do you want me to apologize? I've said I'm sorry a hundred times," she said, and now her voice was cracking at the edges. "I've said it out loud and I've tried saying it with my actions. I'm sorry. I was an unmitigated a** for just dropping off the earth. I made you look like you had hurt me when I was the one that hurt you, in front of everyone at that stupid party. I messed up and it's my fault for not reaching out, that's kind of a thing that I do when I feel awful. It's me that you're angry at, I did that, and I can't fix it, but I've been trying!"
The heel of her hand wiped at her eye, and she stiffened her shoulders as best she could. "I'm not keeping score, Cesc; I couldn't hope to do for you nearly as much as you do for me anyway. Last summer marked how many times you've saved my hide? I just -- I -- we have to stop this stupid dancing around each other!" Her voice shook but she was not going to let tears fall, no matter how much she wanted to. "I've loved your stupid, beautiful face since forever, and if you don't want me too, then -- then I don't know what the hell to do about it, because I've tried just being friends with you, and here I am, months and months later, and absolutely nothing about the way I feel has changed!"
The air went out of the entire room. All the movement and raised voices and whirling fury all stopped in a frozen moment, and Cesc stared at Zuri with eyes wide and mouth agape. He put both hands flat on the steel counter as though trying to stabilize himself from simply falling over. For a moment, he thought he would quite literally explode from exasperation and frustration. What was wrong with women? What in the hell was wrong with them?!
"This…" Rhedefre's voice was high and uneven. "This is a ******** nightmare, where I'm trying to tell you why I'm mad at you and why I don't want to feel bad for-- for having a -- and you decide to take this specific moment to tell me that… that."
He thumped down onto a seat, sinking his head into his hands. "Zuri." His voice was muffled. "This is our problem. I just want to talk to you. I just want to move past the crap before this, before we go… before anything else makes this MORE complicated. You made me so mad. You made me look like an idiot and it's taken me since--since then until yesterday to feel like I'm not a villain or an idiot or someone not worth loving or sticking by, and now you're trying to tell me you've just felt like this the whole time?"
He lifted his head and dropped his hands onto the table. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes were tired.
"I don't know what I need to say. I have absolutely no idea what I am supposed to say," he murmured.
Zuri was quiet for a few moments, ashamed, angry, upset, and all of it at once, and then suddenly none of it. "I don't know what to say either, except that once again I'm sorry. I'm really, really, genuinely sorry. I have been trying to tell you for months that I -- that we -- that I'm sorry and I know I haven't got even one leg to stand on now when it comes to being upset about whatever it was you did with her." She said it, numb, flat, soft. "That's my problem. I don't know when to speak. And by the time I know what to say it's either too early or too late and I -- I want to make things right with you; I have ever since then. I didn't know you were still angry with me, but that doesn't change the way I feel. I just want to know that even if you are still mad, you don't-- you don't want me to go away." She looked down, not making eye contact with him, staring at a chip on her polished nails. "That's all I need to hear, and then -- and then I will be okay."
Her gaze flicked up, then to the side, then down. "I've been working hard on learning to communicate when I'm having feelings," she said wryly. "I work at a psych office, I hear that a lot, and -- you deserve to hear things before they explode. So. There it is."
"Zuri, I hate to tell you this," said Cesc shakily, half-smiling without mirth, his shoulders down and his head half-hanging. "But we neither of us have any legs, and things have already, and officially, exploded."
He sighed then, scratching the side of his face. It felt wrenched from him, the assurance that she wanted, half-held by the lingering embers of the fanned-out anger of before. But he gave it anyway, because she needed it, because she'd asked for it, and because he knew that this was not easy or fun for her in any measure.
"Of course I don't want you to go away," he said. "Of course I don't want that."
He paused. "Even though you called my face stupid."
For a moment, inappropriately, Zuri couldn't help a silly, watery little laugh. "We haven't even got a leg between us. Not even one." She sighed, and grabbed her stool, scooting it closer to the table again and fussing with the sleeve of her cardigan where she had nervously pulled a thread out while over thinking earlier in the day. "And I'm sorry about calling your face stupid. In my defense, we were both pretty angry. And we are both apparently dense as bricks about communicating our feelings to each other. But I did also call it beautiful, so there is that as an apology."
"Well, there is that, so…" Cesc trailed off, exhaling slowly. He felt unfulfilled, unfinished, unwell. He swallowed and wet his lips and looked around the room, as though the sterile quietness of the kitchen had anything to offer him. Outside, he could hear Shepard continuing the closing process, quietly and methodically.
"I should have… been angry at you sooner," he admitted quietly. "I didn't want to admit that I was as mad as I was. But you--you can't keep emotionally one-upping me to where I feel like I need to shut up fast before you get hurt. I just get mad afterward. And I don't want to be. I want to move past this. It's not healthy for either of us."
Rhedefre tried a smile, pleading, exhausted. "Is that too harsh? Is that alright?"
She listened, really listened, and was quiet while she thought about it. Zuri watched his face, saw that weary little smile, and she nodded. "It's... it's fair. You aren't being harsh. I... I don't think I mean to do it, but -- it doesn't even matter." Her slim shoulders rose softly, and then her feathers began to smooth down, in slow increments. "If -- if anything, I know that... maybe we both need to... communicate better? I'm... I'm promising now that I'll never do that stupid incommunicado thing again. It was... not a good decision." Her smile was weak, and she let her gaze drop to the counter again.
"Okay," said Cesc, his voice a hum, his hands flat down on the table. He watched her, the way she moved uncomfortably and the way her body tried to settle, a little bird out of a rainstorm. He felt impossibly distant from her and strangely glad of the space, the space to breathe and think without them tangling into each other. They had grown up together but intertwined in ways not always beneficial, and it was time to grow and heal and be better.
"I'll do my best going forward to make sure you know what I'm thinking, and you do the same?" He affirmed with a nod. "And we'll figure things out better as we come to them. Better than… this, at least."
When he smiled again, it was easier and friendlier. "And yeah, that was d**k. Don't freeze me or--or anyone that can help you out. Cause, I swear, if Phiel has to clue me in for a third summer running, I'm just going to punch him in the face, and nobody wants that."
She nodded. She felt unsettled, as if her world had taken a single step to the right, as if it had removed overlap between her and him, and she felt strangely alone. She had been holding back tears for two days now, and the burn of them still lingered in her throat and pressed at the back of her eyes.
When she laughed at his joke, it was a little fragile, and a tear or two streaked her cheeks as Zuri swore, impatient with herself. "Well, if something stupid like that happens," she said, wiping her face and straightening her spine, "then he will probably expect it. But... I think I will be all right. It's been easier this spring so far, mostly. He's happier because of Nara, and I'm... well, I guess I'm just figuring things out."
"I don't really care about Phiel or how he'd feel, if I'm honest," said Cesc. He rose, one hand on the table, and floated around, sitting on the stool beside her. He put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a half-hug up against him. The truth was that he didn't want to address what she said, he didn't want to think of any part of love or romance while it seemed like they didn't even know how to talk to one another. It was another layer and a messier one and he wanted simplicity and quiet and freshness.
They thought, when they'd come together again, that they'd gotten that fresh start, but it had just been layers of miscommunication over hurt, with hopes that if they buried it deep enough, they would stop noticing it. But Cesc hadn't stopped noticing it, and it compounded, and here it had exploded.
But now, at least, the dirt raked over itself; it was wet and spring was coming.
"We're going to be better at this," he said, softly. "You're not alone."
She let herself be gathered against his side, and her head rested light against him; Zuri was very cold to the couch in the aftermath of their strong emotions, and she closed her eyes, just sitting there in the quiet, trying to sort her muddled feelings. She didn't know how to be, how to act, what to say, but she nodded, letting out a hiccupping little breath as she laid the emotions aside, trying to gain some distance from them, to look at them from a new angle. "I don't know what to do from here," Zuri admitted, softly, and it was true. They had both said their piece, sure, but sitting on the other side of the argument, she was left trying to forget the other woman's face, left with the ache of uncertainty, of her second confession of love unattended, and that stung. "But not being alone is... is good."
Cesc rubbed her arm gently, and there was a marked return of his aura, slowly lifting from his skin like a bird from earth. He wasn't sure what to say, how to guard them both against decisions made in moments of high emotion, to keep from any new complications arising immediately from their pact.
"What do you mean?" He asked. "Zuri, we can't… come out of a fight like that and just…" Rhedefre wet his lips, unsure of how to proceed. "It's too much. You were upset, you're mad because of Ull--what you saw. And this, the rest of this, this doesn't help. I don't want you, or me, to regret anything. And I was just…"
He bit off the rest of his sentence and scratched his head and ran his fingers through his hair a few times. "It's not fair to you. We just need to both… get better than this."
"I know, I know," Zurine said, letting out a breath, her head lowering. "I promise, I know." Her smile was small and a little damp. "I need to go home and cry it out -- I was so angry I couldn't cry and now -- well." She swallowed around the lump in her throat, impatient with herself. "Things will be better in the morning, I imagine!" This time, her smile was wider and a bit wobbly.
Cesc's hand dropped back and he rubbed both his eyes with the heels of his hands. He felt like he could sleep for the next day, regardless of the fact that the sun hadn't set yet and there was still work to be done. He was thoroughly tired of feeling poorly, of stepping into it with his friends--and a cruel whispering part in the back of his brain reminded him of his talk with Ethiriel...
"It'll certainly be something in the morning," he muttered, more to himself than to Zurine. Dropping his hands, he looked back at her, and he ticked one side of his mouth upward. "Do you want Vivi or Shepard to take you back home?"
Zuri looked up at him, smiling a little, weary. She wanted a cold shower, a light meal, and then bed, possibly with a cry somewhere in between. But now that she had gotten beyond the worst of the anger, there was something on the other side. She didn't know what it was out there, but at least it wasn't more of the same, was it? "I'll be all right getting home by myself," she said softly, and her eyes warmed just a little. "I'm a big girl..." Her hand gently rested on his arm for a moment, and she let out a soft breath.
"Maybe, but I know the way to and from here like I know the back of my hand." She gently squeezed the spot on his arm where her hand had rested, and she rose from her stool. "I don't think that's about to change, either." Drawing a deep, soft breath, Zuri steadied herself, dusting her clothing off, visibly straightening her spine as she headed to the kitchen door. She hesitated only a moment, looking for just a moment over her shoulder. "I'll talk to you later," she said softly, and then pushed the door open just enough for her to slip through gracefully, to head home.
Cesc watched her leave with a half-smile and a nod as she went. As the kitchen door closed, he exhaled in a whoosh, leaning over and putting his head atop his folded arms. Part of him wanted to laugh, and to laugh and to laugh, until the ridiculousness of his situation no longer mattered to him.
She said she was in love with him.
Rhedefre believed it and didn't--he knew Zurine well enough to know that she knew her own heart, but also that she could be prone to flairs of jealous emotion. It should have thrilled him to hear after weeks--months--of desiring her, a licking flame that fed on the anger and frustration and rejection and resentment that had festered in him since she'd left him.
But he wasn't thrilled. He felt like his head was heavy and that his heart had holes in it he hadn't noticed until it was time for it to have been filled and instead it leaked pitifully. He wasn't thrilled because of the way everything had happened, because he was tired of seeing girls--Ethiriel, Aina, Zurine--cry because of what he did or did not do, and what he should or should not have felt. There wasn't enough of him. And he was tired and empty and frustrated with everything.
He lifted his head and rose from the table. He was tired of both thinking and overthinking. He wanted to sleep and to deal with mindless pleasures and to wait until he was ready, really ready, to give of himself fully.
And anyway, there was so much work to do...
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 10:45 pm
Day Off
Cesc relaxes after a bad day *
April, 2016
Rhedefre stayed in bed as long as he possibly could.
He awoke in the darkness as was his habit and kicked it out of his head, curling on his sheets and thrusting one hand under his pillow, screwing his eyes shut. Hunger gnawed his stomach and he sat up, both hands pulling down his face.
I’ve loved your stupid, beautiful face since…
No.
He didn’t want to deal with that right now. Not right now. It was his day off. And he was going to use it to sleep, to catch up, to be with himself.
Yeah, Cesc decided. He was going to spend time with himself. Clean out his own head. Do those things that people do on their days off.
* * * *
After dawn fed him, Rhedefre went back to bed. He pulled the sheets over his head and turned on his side. Yeah. People liked to sleep in, and he would finally do the same. He was going to get more sleep.
The morning sun still filtered in through the sheet, and the lack of ventilation made him almost immediately feel stuffy and hot. He attempted to ignore it, until the annoyance of ignoring it began to consume all his thoughts, and then he yanked the sheets back down, letting light flood his eyes.
Grasping the cord to the blinds, he tried to close them, but no matter which way he turned or pulled either the cord or rod, there was still so much light.
Exasperated, he let go and flopped his pillow over his face.
Guy Smiley jumped on Rhedefre’s bed and stuck his own head under the pillow in curiousity. Were there treats under here? Yes! A face to lick!
With a groan, Rhedefre pulled the pillow off and shoved the catsune off the bed. He turned and stared at his alarm clock to see how much extra sleep he’d gotten.
7:12 a.m.
He sucked at this.
* * * *
Rhedefre twisted the shower faucet on and looked at the stream, waiting for the hot water to kick in, as another thought clicked into his head. He twisted the spigot back down to the tub faucet and closed the drain. A bath. People took baths on their days off. This would be good. He took his soap and spilled some extra into the water, watching bubbles begin to froth forth.
He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. He could hear the muffled sounds of the bakery opening downstairs and sighed. He wanted the day to be lazy and slow, but the sounds were reminders that it was a work day for everyone else but him, which just made him feel lazy and slow.
He scratched his head and sank into the bathtub, watching the water rise.
I’ve loved your stupid, beautiful face since…
He dunked his head into the water, splashing, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. Goddamn it. Goddamn it.
* * * * *
“Rhede, what are you doing down here?” asked Shep, scratching his cheek as Cesc filtered into the bakery, tying an apron around his waist. His curls were still wet, and he hadn't dried his back off well enough so that his tee didn't cling to his shoulders. “Isn’t it your day off?”
"No," gasped Cesc. "I've had about all of that I can take."
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:09 pm
What Motivates You?
Xiu and Cesc listen to Prof. Estoc pose a serious question *
April, 2016
“Alright, that will do for today,” said the vampire with an amused look in his eye. “The both of you did well enough although I must admit that I cringed when you met Cesc’s blow head on with your training sword, Xiu. In a prolonged battle with real swords, such actions will only cause your blade to dull faster as repeated hits will cause dents. So it would be in your best interest to avoid coming into contact with direct blows. Not as glamourous as you’d think but do remember it all the same.”
“And Cesc, you did well. You could have used a little more leverage from your shoulders for the strike. Still, it was well controlled. Good job. Now could I interest you boys in some light beverages after you have cleaned yourselves up? Tea perhaps? I apologize for having to shift the classes forward but I would hate to distract the human students any more than I have to”
Cesc took in a deep breath, his chest still heaving from the strength of the exercise. He listened to the professor's criticism with a series of short nods, raking his fingers through the sweat-damp mop of his hair.
"Certainly," he said, and was happy to be released to the freedom of the showers.
*
"How's the training treating you?" Cesc asked Xiu as he dressed again, looking over in the locker room before he pulled a shirt over his head and smoothed it down his chest.
“Actually, it feels rather invigorating now,” said Xiu with a smile. “I am feeling a lot more energetic than I have been in a long while,”
Zipping up the gym bag he had borrowed from Hazeline (it was a case of her ‘wanting to but never finding the time’), Xiu turned to Cesc. “What about you? Are you enjoying the classes? I had my doubts about Prof. Estoc being a vampire initially but he seems genuinely passionate about his craft,”
"Yeah, sports feel great, even when they run you down," laughed Cesc, following in suit with Xiu as he packed up what little equipment he had into his backpack. He shrugged on the pack and nodded at his friend's assessment.
"Yeah, he's certainly passionate, that's for sure. And he definitely knows his stuff." Cesc grinned. "But he's crazy with how many hours he wants us to practice. I have a full time job and lessons on top of that. I give it my all but I think he can tell it's not the amount he wants us to do."
Xiu nodded. “I agree! But he seems happy nonetheless,”
“But do you recall the move he did earlier? He threw his sword at me then moved in for a punch! That was underhanded!” said the Sigel, looking slightly affronted.
“You boys done?” came the voice of their instructor from his office. “I have some iced tea if you’d care for some. Then we will need to have a discussion about your strength and such like. For a more customized lesson plan, if you will,”
Cesc opened his mouth to agree when Prof. Estoc cut in-- he had been about to say that he was amazed at how the professor seemed so taken with teaching them real world applications, real strategies to fight, instead of showy or sport-level fencing. This was not an Olympic sport as Estoc taught it. This was gritty. This was fighting.
"Yes sir," called Cesc, offering Xiu a sympathetic smile as he floated over into the professor's office. He sat and poured a glass of the tea, offering one to Xiu before taking one for himself and sitting. "What do you recommend?"
“Well for starters, I would like to know more about what you are. You said you were created in a laboratory? And that each of your kind has his or hers own strength and weaknesses? I would like to know what drives you on. Your motivation so to speak,” said the Professor, looking keenly from one to the other. “If we could harness that, perhaps the two of you might even find it in you to best me,”
Xiu gave Cesc a glance of uncertainty. “I-I am sure that we’d never dream of besting y-,”
“Nonsense! What is the point of having students whose skills are inferior to their teachers? Then the art would only be watered down as time passes. I want you; the both of you to surpass me!”
Realizing that perhaps he had been a little too harsh, the vampire gave a polite cough. When he next spoke, his voice had returned to its initial controlled tone. “Sorry, it irks me when students try to be modest. Honestly, there can be no progress if the next generation fails to improve on an existing skill. So, let me ask you again, what motivates you?”
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:11 pm
What Motivates You? - Xiu
Question, answer. *
Xiu ponders Estoc's question.
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:12 pm
What Motivates You: Cesc
What motivates you?
Professor Estoc’s words ran through Cesc’s mind as he squinted, looking behind the bar for a clock. What time was it?
Time to go home, he thought to himself, patting his hoodie pockets to make sure he had everything: keys, phone, wallet, card. Card? No, he’d given it to the bartender. He needed to close out.
Ten minutes later he was back out on the sidewalk, the spring night air still cool on his flushed cheeks. The sky was no longer velvet black, but now a cool navy, bright enough to start smothering out the stars. Dawn was still hours away, but Cesc’s fuzzy brain remembered, and not for the first time, that bars could serve on the Gambino Strip for way, way later than he kept expecting.
He wouldn’t sleep again tonight. The bakery needed opening. He needed sobering. He pulled up the collar of his hoodie and sniffed gingerly.
Oof. And showering.
Cesc rubbed the heel of his hand into one eye. Vivi and Shepard had gone home before him, and they had the afternoon shift. What was he doing? He was staying up too late. He was doing things he shouldn’t. Things Ethiriel and Zurine probably wouldn’t particularly like.
Oh, who gave a s**t what they liked. Cesc snorted irritably. His ears felt warm, too warm, even against the cool salt-sea breeze. He was done feeling badly. He just wanted to exercise his freedom. Just wanted to push the limits a little. Show that he was alive. He’d worked most of the days of his life. He’d done all his lessons and taken more on things he didn’t even much care for. He did his duty. He lived cleaner and nicer and friendlier and everything-ier than even ******** Shep or Vivi did. And if he wanted to get smashed and pull all-nighters, goddamnit, he was going to do that.
Yeah.
What motivates you?
Ughn.
Cesc exhaled slowly. That professor. That freaking guy. He was so serious about swordsmanship. He always eyed Cesc hard when he didn’t get enough practice time that week, or when Cesc was feeling a little under the weather from lack of sleep. Always narrowed his eyes at him when Xiu got the upper hand because Cesc’d made a stupid move.
”You are generally better than this, Rhedefre. Last session, Professor Estoc seemed disappointed. He didn’t even bother with a lecture. But it’d worked. Cesc had put in more hours this week. He’d given a lot of hours to that stupid damn sword.
Hey, what could he say? He was susceptible to guilt.
Maybe that was what motivated him. Trying to be good. Do right by everyone. Don’t be a douche. Don’t be a burden.
Maybe that’s why he’d felt like a stick dragged through swamp muck, like why he couldn’t stand himself or the self-pity wallowing he’d been all about for too long now. Why he worked so much, why he tried so hard, why he felt guilty about cheating absolutely nobody by getting drunk and staying up. He didn’t need sleep. It wasn’t wholly necessary to him, not every day. But it was still there. A twinge of guilt. You shouldn’t, it said.
Cesc stopped on the sidewalk.
He looked around himself, at the street, at the closed shops, at the lamp posts and street signs and dark-brightening sky.
“Hey,” he said into the stillness. It was jarring, the sound of his voice. It seemed to wake, to disturb. He took in a breath, held it, exhaled it.
Nothing gave him any answers. No blade of grass from the landscaped sidewalk plots gave him reassurance. No lampposts shone any lights filled with answers. There was nothing but that past-midnight pause, the world slumbering and impossibly big and unbearably quiet.
Cesc looked around. He felt like a moving part in a still-life, incongruous.
It was too late for sleep, but it was past time to go home. So home he went.
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:19 pm
Sun Tea and Sunshine
For a refreshing change of pace, Cesc basks in sunshine with the cutest Raevan he's met since Aina. *
[ongoing]
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:20 pm
SLEEPOVER!!
Vivi, feeling badly for Zurine, has a girl's night in--with her and Cruz. *
[ongoing]
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:24 pm
J-J-Jenga!
Cesc, Xiu, Laz and Cruz take an afternoon to tell secrets while playing Jenga. *
[ongoing]
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:37 pm
Sword-fighting Lessons: Part III
Cesc still hadn’t slept. It had been a full morning of prep, a day of work, an afternoon of lessons, and now an early evening of sword-fighting class. Cesc’s bones were beginning to feel brittle, his joints tightened too tight. There was a cloud that descended between his brows and just would not lift, despite his best efforts. There was a biting sort of anger that he didn’t recognize or understand—he didn’t have anything to be angry about.
Throughout the day, he’d taken deep breaths and centered himself and asked, again and again: why was that twist in his brow, that tangle in his chest, there? Everything was resolved, one way or another. He had nothing to feel angry about. Nothing to feel irritation about. He was doing what he wanted to do. He had nobody to answer to.
It was lack of sleep, he decided. Lack of sleep, hangover, lack of a good mood.
“Are you feeling alright, Rhedefre?” asked Professor Estoc as Cesc came out of the dressing room in his Nike shirt and ball cap. Cesc knew the professor didn’t love the less formal fencing attire, but he had no fondness for a gi. These were his working out clothes, and he was working out.
“I’m fine,” said Cesc, as he snapped off a beam of sunlight from one window and fashionedhis sword.
“You seem under the weather,” said the professor. “We are fighting with your live weapons today, you know. It’s a bad idea to fight feeling poorly…” He paused. “Although, there are no perfect conditions in the field of battle.” Estoc shrugged. “You may take your place.”
Cesc took his cap off and ruffled his fingers through his bangs, then put the cap back on, squaring his shoulders and taking hold of his sword’s hilt with both hands.
Across from him, Xiu, perfectly composed and dressed, was waiting. He gave Cesc a patient smile.
“Go,” said Professor Estoc. Xiu went forward with the first lunge—Cesc parried, floating back, and the lesson started.
Xiu.
Xiu was a good guy, Cesc thought. Did he ever have moments where he thought about all kinds of bullshit like this? Xiu also worked his whole life. Xiu also had romance to contend with (much better, clearly), on top of a guardian that seemed to be only half-present in his life and worse, much worse, scars from his trials and tribulations. He’d spent years unable to speak for his service to his family.
He wasn’t acting like a dickbag. He was trying to do best by all those around him.
Xiu was a model student. Across from Cesc, perspiration starting to form on his brow, his face and eyes clear as he swung his weapon. He was doing this to understand the sword that had bound himself to him, wasn’t he?
Did he tell professor Estoc about that? That that was his motivation?
What was he going to say? Cesc had nothing.
“Focus, Cesc!” called the professor, circling them as the continued the fight. Cesc was mostly parrying as Xiu advanced, beating aside the weapon with more force than was strictly necessary. “Sloppy work is how you get injured!”
Can’t this guy ******** off? Cesc seethed inwardly, swatting aside another attack from Xiu, whose eyes seemed to be getting more and more concerned at his partner’s lack of precision. He said: “Yes, sir!”
“Xiu, press your advantage!” shouted the professor from the sidelines. Xiu dutifully obliged, setting his stance, shifting his weight and putting it all into his next blow. This one handed hard onto Cesc’s sword, hard enough that it rattled in Cesc’s hand, numbing his fingers.
And Xiu didn’t stop, pushing forward, his teeth gritted, his face close to Cesc’s, trying to wrench the sword out of Cesc’s hand by using his leverage on the sword blade. Immediately, a flood of furious adrenaline rushed to Cesc’s face, and he shoved back, pushing Xiu as far off as he could.
Then, there it was—the mistake. Cesc pulled his hand back to gain momentum and Xiu, still in the position of command, went for his side.
Normally, Cesc would have parried. He’d been taught what to do in this situation.
But he didn’t.
And immediately, there were two things.
First, a jolt of pain shot up Cesc’s side.
And immediately second, both he and Xiu froze.
Guilt washed over Xiu’s face as they both stared at Cesc’s side, at the small cut he’d inflicted. It was nothing, truly—hardly deeper than a paper cut—but it was the shock of having caused it between friends that froze them both in their spaces. Cesc blinked and started, putting one hand over the cut in his shirt, and Xiu put his sword down immediately.
“Cesc! Are you alright? I am so sorry!” exclaimed Xiu as he floated over to his stunned friend. Concern was written all over Xiu’s face while he inspected the wound; which thankfully wasn’t very deep. However, the scent of fresh blood mingled with sweat was something unlike that of those cold blood packs he was used to. For a moment Xiu hesitated before pressing his hand over the wound and quickly stopping the flow of blood.
“I-I am sorry Cesc! It must have been an accident,” apologized Xiu again, more profusely this time.
“What are you doing?!” bellowed the professor from the sideline. “Who told you to stop!?”
The vampire came forward, his face drawn and angry, his eyes flashing. “I told you this is how you get injured! I warned you—and you’re lucky that more didn’t happen! You do not stop the fight without my word, do you understand? If you are injured, it is your own accountability!”
The adrenaline that had pumped in Cesc’s veins was quickly boiling back into the sour anger that had been festering in him all day.
“Are you kidding me?” he spat, his sword dissipating into light. “What do you want him to do, run me through?”
“I want you to defend yourself,” replied the vampire, his voice controlled, distant. “That is what I am teaching you.” He lifted his chin. “If you can’t properly prepare, don’t come to class.”
The blood drained from Cesc’s face, then filled it too fast. “With all due respect, I work full time and take lessons other than this one, you know.”
“I wasn’t the one who decided to take this course. If you cannot make sacrifices, don’t come to me with excuses,” said Estoc levelly. “It was your decision to learn something that takes many hours of dedicated practice.”
He paused, coming forward into Cesc’s space. “Is that why you haven’t answered my questions yet from last class? Because you have no motivations? Nothing drives you but your own impulse? Or are you so weak-willed to be just—taken along for the ride with the real desires of others?”
Cesc said nothing, the light in his eyes more like fire than sun. His mouth was thin.
“Continue the lesson!” barked Estoc, taking steps back. Cesc snorted, throwing his arm back and splintering another piece of light for a sword. Sparks flew from the magic, but burned themselves out before reaching the wooden floor.
His shoulders, his fingers, his joints, were tighter than ever.
“Go!” called Estoc, and Cesc went forward, quicker this time than before.
Xiu watched as Cesc advanced. Lithe, determined and confident, the stag was everything he had envisage in a Sigel. Strength, he had always admired the older raevans for their strength and their reassuring confidence. Cesc seemed to radiate it at times. Coupled with his friendly and helpful personality, there was a lot to like about the Stag.
Their swords met and Xiu observed the Stag’s movement’s carefully. They had sparred often enough with practice swords and some of the movements done now was almost routine. But this was the first time that the professor felt confident enough to allow live weapons.
Another reverberating clash echoed across the empty training hall as the duo met head on. Xiu with his steel and Cesc with his light. This was…invigorating. Never before had he been able to coordinate himself as such and never before had he been this in tune with his sword. It had always been a life of proper conduct and humility. Never stand out, be polite, and be respectful. Never raise your voice; be concerned for others…
But now…this felt like a dance and both he and Cesc were the only players that mattered.
Parrying Cesc’s blow, Xiu raised his eyes to give the Stag a grin.
And faltered.
Before him was not someone who was enjoying the spar. Seeming livid with anger, Cesc’s blows were at times wild and haphazard and the Stag was leaving himself open to attacks.
Restraints kicking in, Xiu immediately backed off; the joy of the fight gone and concern for his friend rising. Those weren’t the calm and collected eyes of the Raevan he knew. In its place were a pair of eyes that seemed frustrated and exasperated with the world.
“WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?!” came the harsh roar of the vampire as the fight stalled. “You had the upper hand! Use it!”
But the desire to spar had left the white raevan. Xiu had no intention of fighting a friend who was not in the mood for it. There were all sorts of dangers that could arise when one was not prepared for a duel. Professor Estoc himself had reiterated it several times during the course of their many lessons.
“Do not let sentimentalities cloud your judgement!” shrieked the vampire, working himself into a frenzied rage at the apparent obstinacy of his students. “For your sake Xiu, hold your stance and fight!!”
At that point, Cesc felt more like he could fight Estoc than Xiu. The man was a neverending font of patronizing garbage! Everything he said was meant to grate, to belittle, to make them feel as though they were supposed to give everything to the damn fight.
Cesc turned to bark as much to the professor, but Xiu was still half-heartedly coming forward, and the fight became too close, too personal. He was holding his weapon in his weaker hand, and it was only the thought of what happened before that allowed him to lower it in time to block Xiu’s approach. His sword of light and Xiu’s struck, but Cesc’s temper was deteriorating the makeup of his weapon. There was a shower of sparks, like Xiu’s sword had hit livewire, and both Raevans started.
Cesc, still half turned, swung his free arm, shocked by the sparks and trying to disperse them. The motion was quick and rough, reactionary rather than thoughtful--and instead, he felt his elbow collide with Xiu’s face.
“s**t!” he gasped. Instantly, his sword disappeared and it was Cesc’s turn to start apologizing, his eyes wide. “Did I get your nose? Oh, my God--I’m so sorry--”
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE BOTH OF YOU!?” Estoc’s voice shattered through the room. Cesc could see students beyond the windows of the training space start from the sound. The vampire’s face was drawn with fury. “STOP. The fight ends now.”
“It’s already over!” pressed Cesc, his own voice starting to roughen. The hair on his neck was standing and his ears were at attention. He still had one hand half-out to Xiu’s face, stopped while trying to assess the damage he’d caused.
This was not good. This was not good at all!
Today’s training (with the exception of using live swords) should have been nothing more than a practice routine but now things quickly getting out of hand.
Prompted by Prof. Estoc’s harsh reprimand, Xiu, whose rebellious streak was minuscule at best, found himself lunging at Cesc once more. Their swords collided but once again something was out of sync. Cesc’s sword, a normally robust beast of a weapon seemed to explode in a shower of sparks.
Momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, Xiu was not prepared for the blow that came next. Reeling from the impact of Cesc's elbow across his face, Xiu felt disorientated. The blow had missed his nose by a mere inch but his jaw was feeling very tender right now. “Ugh…,” was all that the Sigel could reply in response to Cesc’s concerns.
“Don’t you dare be uppity with me, boy!” hissed Estoc furiously as Cesc went over to aid his friend. “Consider yourself suspended until you get your head sorted out!”
“And YOU!” growled Estoc, turning his attention to the white Sigel who winced at the vampire’s rough tone. “You will have personal training sessions with me now. Starting this weekend at my house!”
Cesc had never been suspended from so much as a baseball game his entire life. When the words came out of the professor’s mouth, his eyebrows raised and his head jerked back, his jaw slackening. His hands froze where they were, close to Xiu’s face. But it was barely a moment until his face had re-settled into anger: his mouth tense, his eyebrows dark, eyes wide.
“This is absurd,” he seethed, dropping his hands when he saw that he hadn’t broken skin.
“When you cool your head, your turn will come,” sneered the professor, now back in control of his own temper. “I was optimistic to think I could bring you both around at once. I see now that was folly.”
He looked from Cesc to Xiu with disgust. “Tutoring friends--” he said the word like it sullied his mouth to pronounce, “has always come with danger and distraction. I thought you might rise above that. But I see that I overestimated you. You are dismissed, Cesc. Xiu, you will remain back until I give you directions where to go this weekend. Keep your hours of practice as normal. Cesc--the most basic of exercises from you! No mistakes!”
Cesc could feel the flush of blood in his cheeks as the professor tried to discipline him. His shoulders dropped and he shook his head with a snort--but said nothing else, unwilling to ruin Xiu’s chances as well as his own.
“Ice that hit good, alright? I’m really sorry,” he said quietly to Xiu, offering him a tight smile before turning and heading toward the locker room. He could only exhale through his nose, his lips pulled over his teeth, as he went by Estoc, too frustrated even for a goodbye.
“Ignore him,” Estoc said cooly as Cesc exited. “He is made of a wild animal, is he not? They are difficult to tame, but it will still happen.” He smiled at Xiu, as though his words were meant for comfort. “Now, as for you… my house is in Old Gambino, close to where the old Gambino mansion is. If you take Golden Peacock Avenue up through Yew Street and take a left, my house is marked by the gated driveway at the very, very end of the street. Don’t be alarmed--the street may not look like it ends, but it does. There is merely an orchard between myself and my neighbor.”
He smiled, and this time, it really was almost comforting. “Don’t worry--with one-on-one lessons, I will still make an excellent swordsman of you. It will be a quicker ascent alone than with two.”
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Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 5:41 pm
That was Weird
Cesc made his way home in a flurry of indignation. He glowered out the window of the bus, still sweaty and disheveled from practice, his brows drawn low and his mouth a line. He chewed on further words he wanted to say to Estoc: Have you totally lost your goddamn mind? What the hell is wrong with you?!
The guy was sick! A freaking nutjob. And Cesc was done with lessons for a while—for a long while. Maybe forever. Who needed this kind of abuse? Estoc was nuts. Who goads people to keep fighting after they’re injured?
What a d**k.
The bus lurched to a stop and Cesc rose and exited, shouldering his bag with one hand. He floated out into the air, his fingers tight around the bag’s strap. Xiu’s face—the look of shock and concern when they’d collided… Xiu couldn’t want to keep doing this, either, right? It wasn’t in his nature to fight. The whole reason he was doing this was just to gain a connection with his sword, anyway, wasn’t it?
Yeah. Xiu was going to want to ramp things down after this, most likely. Things had gotten too weird, too focused, too serious. Xiu was a gentle, scholarly Sigel who’d kept a wild bird. He was basically a Disney prince who’d gotten stuck with a sword he wanted to communicate with and be worthy of. Which still kind of went with the overarching prince theme, really.
Cesc sighed. The bakery came into view, and as Cesc approached, a familiar figure came out, holding the leash to a large black Lab. Immediately, the clouds on Cesc’s visage parted, and he brightened as he called: “Azucar!”
“My friend!” Azucar smiled and lifted the hand that clutched Perp’s leash in a hello. His smile faded quickly as Cesc approached, half-falling as his eyebrows rose: “…is everything alright?”
Behind him, the door slowly swung to a close, and Perp took his master’s diverted attention as an opportunity to thoroughly sniff the sidewalk and grass in the tree-plot in front of them. Cesc smiled awkwardly and shifted his weight: “Alright sounds good, yeah,” he replied.
Azucar laughed. “Another run-in with one of your would-be girlfriends?”
Cesc held up both of his hands, smiling a helpless smile: “No, no—none of that, thank you. No, I was just at sword-fighting class.”
“Ah, that’s correct. I heard you started taking those.” Azucar nodded toward a nearby bench, pulling Perp’s leash and starting toward it. Cesc followed the silent invitation, and lowered his bag down to the ground as they sat.
“How has it been? Are you dispatching many knights and rapscallions?” asked Azucar, his smile returned to its original wattage. “Or has the Scarlet Pimpernel bested you?”
“Okay, okay,” laughed Cesc. “It’s not the most useful thing I could be taking, sure. But I have a friend that’s really absorbed by it. He wanted a partner, and it felt like any combat training is good.”
“Sure,” agreed Azucar with a shrug. “I remember taking spear-fighting in the Academy. It’s come in handy when I arrest anyone over two centuries old.”
Cesc put a hand to his face, covering one eye, and let out a snicker, shaking his head. “Oh, shut up.”
“Sorry.” His companion smiled. “Any exertion is good, and I’m glad you’re doing something you enjoy.”
The stag lifted his shoulders and exhaled. “Yeah, enjoy might be a stretch. The professor is a vampire, believe it or not.”
“I do believe that,” replied Azucar quickly. “I have absolutely no problems believing that.” He smiled. “There are some in our society that prefer swords and spears and shields, I certainly do know that. And a vampire, well. He seems like the type that would.”
“Yeah, he’s kind of nuts about it,” snorted Cesc. “He waxes poetic about it every chance he gets.”
“That seems like it would be accurate.” Azucar sipped his coffee.
“It wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t… needling us about the life of the sword and what our motivations are and all that nonsense.” Cesc’s tone was beginning to darken, and Azucar’s yellow-green eyes snapped to his face as it did. The stag looked at the ground, his brows lowering. “Hours and hours of practice a week, and today he had us fight with live weapons and freaking goaded us to actually—actually really hit each other, like, injure each other.”
“Did you?” Azucar’s voice was not pressing, but the grave steadiness in it caught Rhedefre’s attention. Suddenly self-conscious, the stag looked up, struggling to add levity to his tone once more.
“Oh, no, of course not. I mean, I was… I was really pissed off. He really got under my skin. But that’s not Xiu’s—my friend’s—that’s not his fault. I just kind of lost control; it was really my bad.” Cesc said, nodding. “Just can’t let him get under my skin like that.”
“Cesc,” said Azucar, leaning forward. “That’s very troubling.”
“I know.” Cesc pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really need to just… get more sleep, I think. I don’t know…”
“No, it’s troubling that someone is getting under your skin, goading you to fight your friend in all seriousness, and then manipulating you to think its your fault,” said Azucar, frowning. He put out a hand, touching Cesc on the shoulder. “Are you sure you’re alright? You weren’t injured? This hasn’t happened before?”
Alarmed, Cesc looked at Azucar, holding up his hands. “No, no—seriously, no. It’s alright. I mean, he is crazy, but I really do think it’s because he’s so serious about this sword-fighting stuff. He’s just a pompous a**.”
The detective didn’t seem convinced, even as Cesc punctuated his speech with a weak smile. Below them, Perp thoughtfully chewed a leaf.
“Well…” Azucar said, after a pause. “I think you should both take it a little easier. And maybe try that more sleep thing, too.”
Cesc’s smile became a touch more genuine. “I will, yeah.”
“No use running yourself to the ground, my friend.”
“I know, I know…”
“And, Cesc.” Azucar’s voice became serious again, sharp and official. “If he does this again, you will tell someone at the school, yes? And you will stop taking classes. Both of you.”
Cesc swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. No, I will. I’ll tell Xiu, too.”
Azucar sat back, smiling. “Good. I don’t want to hear that you got stabbed or anything because you were just following professor’s orders, you hear? You’ll still be the one going to jail for assault.”
Cesc laughed. “Yeah, I’m not that dumb. At least, I sure hope not.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2016 11:17 am
That was Weird: Part II
It wasn't after until he'd taken a shower and a nap--and had a few conversations with Shepard and Vivi--that Cesc realized he probably should text Xiu about Azucar's conversation with him. That Estoc was crazy, that he'd overstepped his bounds as a professor, that things were going too far--that much was only cemented by his clearer head and better judgement. Hours had only made the encounter stranger.
He had been rough-tempered and stupid, and he needed to treat himself less haphazardly. That was true. Estoc hadn't been wrong to rebuke him for his bad attitude. But the fact remained that he'd wanted Cesc and Xiu to injure each other, with live weapons, for real. And that... well, Xiu had to see that that wasn't right, either.
Cesc dug through his workout bag for his phone. A quick conversation would be all that was needed to know Xiu's perspective.
But as Cesc combed through the bag, unzipping pockets and pulling shirts and towels out, there was no phone to be found.
"s**t," Rhedefre breathed, turning the bag upside down and rifling through the contents. He knew it was an exercise in futility--his power provided the answer, immediately clear: it was still in the locker room at the university.
He looked at the alarm clock by his bedside: too late to go back out for it. The offices were long closed by now. He'd have to go pick it up in the morning, after his shift.
Rhedefre sighed. It would be less than a day. He could wait that long to talk with Xiu. After all, what could happen between now and then?
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Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2016 12:01 pm
Know Me Better
Cesc and Zul catch up. *
There was never a situation where he didn't want to be in Zul's company.
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