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 Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 12:42 am
Mock TrialRoles: Cody, Mickey, Ramon
Time: Sun gone down, could be four in the afternoon for all we know - hell to winter, hell with it.
Location: Not the Townhouse. [Ramon's abode for the most part.]
===========Silence was paradoxically motivating. The lack of words, of sharing of anything remotely resembling communication from a touch to a look to presence - it'd driven him so far as this. Well, a this that had been very irritably interrupted. How the hell was he supposed to have a goddamn little heart to heart with Pip if he was going to get so completely distracted interrupted by.... ugh. He didn't quite know. No, he knew. And that bothered him.
Nicodemus Kingsley knew what death was - the medical profession just kind of did that to you after a while. Not to mention being connected to the flow of life and death while still being outside it and then tripping your way back in... kinda gave you a pretty wide perspective. But beyond the intangible twinges he'd picked up from some spiritual awakening or another there was the acute knowledge of habits and tendencies he'd picked up from the involuntary mind-surf through certain headbones. Welcome to the world when it's ********, Cody Kingsley - free drinks 'til the eleventh hour, then you're on your own.
But the part that bothered him even more was knowing he should've been sobered upon first figuring it out, should've felt at that first second, if not a healthy dose of fear, a dawning of stoic responsibility. Instead of what there had been, a sudden wave of fatalistic... glee? No, that was taking it a bit far and even he knew... no, no again. He didn't know for certain, couldn't quite... therein lay the crux of the matter, that he'd recognized for the first time just what the problem was. Or rather, he'd caught a glimpse of it from a different perspective. Wasn't a pretty sight either.
There was nothing quite like pissing off Alex to make you realize just how far you'd fallen.
But even that hadn't been the moment - what had been the moment was Marks being unusually--no, not even that. Because Cody had considered it perfectly normal for Marks to go back to being all PMSy and trigger-happy when people came within five feet and - he'd smelt it somewhere else. Entropy, the reek of deterioration. Brushed it off as hallucination and bought time to reconsider how tentative his grasp on the world had become until...
One stench, one whiff so completely powerful he'd had no alternative but to pursue.
Dunsirn. Ramon Dunsirn. Goldie had to die.
The house the scent originated from, to which the scent had led him from just near M'lady's, was far too aggrandized for Cody's taste - then again his vehicle of choice was a station wagon so old it'd been unearthed with Tutankhamen so that wasn't saying all that much. But it was a little gross - okay, fine, classy might be the more appropriate term seeing as... the place stank of more than entropy, reeked not a little of the rich and powerful and in that understated clean and wrought iron way. Not too intricate, no columns or other such bullshit. Big, impressive, clean cut and... cold.
Hell with this. Just. Hell with this.
He probably should've called someone.
Ha, like who? Marks? Because they shared a common interest in Ramon's fiery corpse? No, that was a deal with the devil Cody wasn't ready for. Alex could get mad at him for antagonizing Miika - all right, making a move at completely verbally eviscerating Miika (it hadn't worked, damnit--but the kid's reaction had been justified all the--screw it) - but Cody really didn't care what Alex thought of his unvarying and implacable hatred for Marks. Which brought up the possibility of Oliver, considering their obviously shared sentiment and that... no, Oliver just wasn't reliable these days. Maybe he was too used to taking care of the little nutcase but--
Okay, fine, there weren't a lot of good excuses (if any) for him to be here on his own. But he just--he didn't want them involved, wasn't going to let them be involved with something he could tell to back the hell off all on his own. Which was the general plan.
Uncharacteristically civilized, Cody raised the dark iron knocker and let it fall with a resounding thud, hands falling deep into the pockets of his coat as he waited in silence with a rather petulant expression. Ugh. Should've come in the day, in the warmth, after eating, after giving an excuse to why he wouldn't be back for a while and/or why nobody ought to come looking for him, should've --
With a silence to be expected of so polished an estate (Cody found himself wishing there'd been a properly creepy creaking and promptly kicked himself about pining for the cliche) the large door swung open and a man the 'unicorn' completely failed to recognize poked his head outside with a rather quizzical expression written across his shadowed face. "It's not girl scouts!" he shouted, as if to alert whomever still waited inside - though he faced Cody while screaming, letting out the brunt of the noise upon the 'unicorn's' person. "Just in case you were wondering!"
And with that the man opened the door more fully, presenting a far darker interior than the only just be-night-ed outside world. He was shorter than Cody, though not by much - and possessed membranous wings that seemed to melt into the shadows--ah, transparent, that was why. You could see the movement of the world through them. Kinda like melted glass gone all fleshy.
Sparing them only a brief moment of observational detail the 'unicorn' racked his brain for any memory - his own or otherwise - related to the bronze-skinned demon and came up with a blinding nil.
Well damn. Dunsirn had a friend.
For his part Mickey had finished the sizing up of the behooved fellow in about three seconds flat, in other words the amount of time it took him to declare the 'unicorn' to be not-a-female-child-bearing-cookies. His definition of the sour faced boy instead amounted to 'not a threat'. Which meant that he was going to get the chance to state his purpose instead of getting knocked out and dropped off on the opposite side of town with incriminating substances in various pockets of his person. The demon stared unblinkingly forward, smiling in a way that was pleasant enough, for all it held the hint of mischief.
It did nothing for Cody's opinion. "Who're you?" he frowned sharply, feeling no need to conceal aggression and/or the rather intense dislike he felt for all things even remotely associated with Dunsirn. If this guy was familiar with the necromancer he couldn't be unfamiliar with the kind of reactions he generally evoked from people. Though that he was here at all said some kinda scary things about how long Dunsirn had been on Gaia... long enough to find allies. How the hell had they missed this? Oh, he wasn't saying he wished he'd found him sooner, no, just. Screw it. What the hell had Goldie been thinking?
The smile curled longer and upwards at the question, making him seem simultaneously sillier, more impish and, if one knew Mickey, more threatening. But this guy didn't and he wasn't attempting to threaten so no biggie, just living it up in the persona from all angles required and otherwise. "The butler," he sang, showing teeth and knowing he looked nothing like the part, especially not by his employer's standards. Even though he'd given up t-shirts in the name of concealing the curse his dress continued to be nothing short of painstakingly casual, an oxymoron that suited well Mickey's habitual creation and adherence to acts else and other than his natural self.
"Seeing as you've just given me right to your identity in turn," he went on in airy amusement, taking a step back and pretending to take a second appraisal of the 'unicorn', "Who're you?" the words an exaggerated mimicry of Cody's initial question.
"Old friend," short syllabically and in delivery, making no show either to hide the growing irritability - which was probably a better thing to be exhibiting than open antagonism, given that if this guy was in Dunsirn's employ Cody probably didn't want him to know he planned on doing something painful and irreversible to the Giovanni's person. Besides which, such a claim ought to throw anybody for a loop, even if only a tiny one - someone claiming to be Dunsirn's friend? Outrageous. An old one at that? One that wasn't dead? - or, if they knew the whole story - one that came from another world?
The last being exactly the thought that had Mickey's head reeling, though he was doing a fairly good job of hiding it. Hunh, there were more of 'em - because he was pretty sure the kid wasn't lying. Not that Mickey was an expert at the game, but the general feel here... just wasn't right for a massive mind ********, which meant that the boy was telling him the truth in an attempt to throw him off a little - which Good Job Kiddie, you got that down. But lucky for Mickey his surprise led to interest more than anything else. Not nearly so debilitating a pursual as might've been hoped.
"Oh yeah?" he blinked once, grin lessening somewhat - at least in width, though the strength of feeling behind it had grown if anything, giving off what was a clear warning sign to all those interested in making a run for it. But apparently this kid had better things to do. Of even more interest than the kid's identity - what'd he want with Dunsirn? "You're gonna need more than that to win your way in, 'm afraid - name, quest and flight speed of an unladen swallow if you please~"
Face twisting as if unsure whether to be displeased or amused Cody was fairly certain that... no, he was still displeased because any positive acquaintance of Dunsirn's was an irredeemable sin against God for him. Thus he refused to allow any amount of amusing pop culture references to distract him - was this what it was like for authority figures to speak to him? ...then again, bad analogy to make because though this guy'd claimed himself to be the butler, nothing about the way he carried himself made him seem a man in servitude. Not that he had a lot of experience with servants or anything, but this...
"Kingsley, a chat and your mother," he said, short and terse as before, "I haven't got all day."
The way the 'butler' grinned then - oh, Cody didn't really like the way he grinned then. Not only because it made his skin prickle but because it made his hackles rise. And though that wasn't especially hard to do admittedly, this was a very special sort of caution he felt creeping and roaring to the forefront of his mind.
"No," Mickey agreed, stepping back from the door and melting even further away into the oddly darkened interior before movement away and to the right picked out his form once more, "No, you really haven't."
Taking that as an invitation - God he didn't like the way this guy... it was like looking in a mirror in some aspect, same respect for authority, same... he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But it was going to drive him mad.
The house itself wasn't much different on the inside than the outside - or so he was going to assume because the interior was just as dark as he'd presumed it to be on first entrance. The only way he was going to see things clearly was through echolocation. Only ever flickers of light from a room when passed - candle, gaslamp? Oh come on. Someone in this place knew the word 'electricity', right?
"Company~" the demon sang through a doorway, opening it without hesitation or reserve to reveal a study detailed in the now familiar sparse elegance, the lack of warning his own little way of denoting that lack of information was not appreciated. If Dunsirn wanted to play his cards close to the chest, distribute info on a need-to-know basis, that was perfectly cool with Mickey. It appealed to him as a method, in fact - but there were some things he just thought he ought to be in the loop about, like visitors and so forth.
Anybody with business visiting Dunsirn was way far up in Mickey's need-to-know list. Sure, he was employed - more than willingly at that - but working for the mafia didn't mean you got to sleep with both eyes closed. Though bringing up the mafia in Dunsirn's presence was probably license for pain - or an attempt at such, Mickey hadn't bothered to test himself against his employer's abilities not wanting the inevitable complications that would arise no matter whether he turned out to be more or less able to defend (or attack) versus Dunsirn.
Just not worth the trouble.
This, though - more than worth it. Even if...
Ramon didn't look particularly bothered. In fact, he didn't look much of anything beyond the painfully typical urbanely amused smile that, if Mickey hadn't known any better, the demon would've assumed his employer wore just to irritate him. Unknown to him Cody harbored rather similar thoughts - Ramon just sort of had that effect on people. He failed to accompany that smile with any hint of sound or syllable however, merely... watching, in that reserved and mild-mannered way that just felt - well it felt suspicious. But only if one were already inclined to think the worst of the necromancer. To the ignorant world it was simply withdrawn though pleasant - if a little odd as it spread across the features of a man hiding in a study at the back of an inexplicably dark house, his only features lit to a minimum by normal standards but bright as they day in comparison to the rest of the building.
For his part the wolf refused to act out in any way, ever smiling but slightly as he put a name to the familiar face behind Michael. An extremely attractive, dark haired young man with angry, piercing blue eyes - yes, he knew this one... but he'd come to know quite a few people in his day and for some reason this face seemed lost in the jumble of time --ah yes, Nicodemus Kingsley, one of the Queen's favorites from a time he now saw thankfully behind him. Their last encounter had not been pleasant, leaving Ramon with something of a grudge against the boy's childish behavior and unexplained knowledge of certain affairs. The boy himself had been nothing but hostile.
Somewhat disappointing, then, to find his first re-contact with those from his own world be an inconsequential hostility. Ah well.
Greeted by silence but not turned away Cody walked with no particular haste right up to the dark wood desk, hands settling upon it with a strange, tense heaviness as he stared evenly to the wolf sitting across. None of the traits that usually accompanied his fouler moods, the shouting, the growling or impish insults seemed about to make an appearance now, his expression instead neutral, if tinged with something unplaceable that made his aura reek of implacability. Many would still have found that laughable, having long since written off the 'unicorn' to some variety of excitable recklessness or another.
Mickey, however, began to wonder if he should've stopped the fellow in the name of next week's paycheck. But Dunsirn hadn't so much as flicked a pinky so far, and the guy therefore couldn't be that much of a threat - at least not one Dunsirn felt himself incapable of dealing with on his own, for whatever reason.
There were few movements in either now, though neither had the gumption to be stock still - the 'unicorn's' fingers curled into fists, Dunsirn's smile crept slightly more, in the way one does when remembering a particularly poignant joke. Whether or not it was meant to provoke neither man showed a sign. Okay, clearly some history he was missing here... though from the slightly puzzled look he caught in the back of his employer's eye... he wasn't the only one. Okay, he didn't like that at all - if Dunsirn didn't have all the facts--
"If you come within two miles of anyone from home," Kingsley breathed, interrupting all Mickey's thoughts with the shallow wrought words, "Including Marks," a slight hitch in speech there as teeth came to grit - or no, just the clenching of jaw, "I will be personally responsible fofr your untimely demise."
Oh. Ha. Just threats. Whatever. Mickey relaxed visibly with a yawn and stretch. Anyone wasting time on threats clearly didn't have enough confidence in his ability to win.
Unfortunately it looked like Ramon still wanted to consider something in or to appear in Kingsley's demands - what more was there to know? The guy clearly didn't like Ramon and didn't want him treading on his territory. Okay, maybe the 'why' and whatever, but with small fry like this? Mickey flossed with bigger lightweights. ...No, he was writing it of too quickly, far too quickly - all because he just wanted one of those individual, private chats without some authority figure peering over his shoulder. Maybe get a little insight into what he was dealing with in Dunsirn - and that...
Ugh. Fine line, there - because he wanted to know more, surely - but the moment he knew too much... no, he didn't want to know that much at all, just enough to keep himself in the clear to the best of his advantage. Okay fine. Just wait, be patient, that was the name of the game - he'd get his talk eventually, just had to play it cool and let them have their spat. There were things to be learned from interactions too, after all.
"I don't remember you being a particular threatening figure at... 'home', if you will," the necromancer murmured, words of skepticism, though his expression did not change to become more amused.
Okay, so he was right. Kingsley was a lightweight. No worries.
"That's because you were on a leash, Dunsirn."
A name spoken with no small amount of venom, the most emotion slipped into two syllables that Mickey'd heard from him all evening, as if the boy'd breathed flames for one special name. All right, clearly a lot of unresolved issues here - at least on one side of the fence. Dunsirn really got around, didn't he?
"You kinda sorta weren't my problem."
Oh right hey he hadn't caught that - 'leash'? Someone had been controlling Dunsirn? Hell no. Okay, maybe - his employer clearly had a deep, ingrained respect for hierarchy, that much Mickey could tell from the way he'd accepted servitude to his near obsession with addressing groups of people in his own etiquette-dictated order. Besides which it wouldn't be that surprising for Dunsirn to have made it seem like he was under someone else's orders in the name of shaking off blame and whatnot - the kid, if he remained true to the type Mickey'd pegged him for - wouldn't have been so hard to fool.
A single eyebrow arched, "And now I am?" Ramon murmured, an inflection within his tone either amused or offended - and if the latter than it was clearly a joke.
Because Mickey was pretty damn sure nothing short of castration would offend Dunsirn. Or ignoring him. Or - no, then he'd just give you a hell of a reason not to ignore him, possibly resulting in your own--
"You know, the funny part is you're pretending you aren't."
The 'unicorn's' words thankfully decapitated Mickey's thoughts before they reached a head.
Apparently giving up on pretense, Ramon leaned back, long fingers steepled together and elbows resting on wide, elegant curves of the chair, the smile of the warm and giving patron gracing sensuous mouth.
It occurred to Mickey once more how completely much his employer relied on appearance - who else but a man obsessed would wear a three piece suit inside his own home, in the dark where but few could see? Full of eccentricities - perhaps ground in by over a century as a vampire - yeah okay he could see what that did to a guy - come to think of it, when did Dusirn sleep? Did he sleep?--Oh GOD did he sleep??--more immediately--
"What do you hope to gain from this... bravado, Mr. Kingsley?"
Oh, that was good news - Dunsirn wasn't fooled by the threat. Happy day. It really sucked to have an easily duped employer, you ended up watching more fronts than backs because eventually people stopped bothering to hide foul intent.
"A promise?" Ramon's lips curled, "You can't possibly presume to hold my word in such esteem."
Which put their previous relations in the land of no-fun, absolutely beyond a doubt. Oh hell, Ramon hadn't screwed this one over in a previous life, had he? Revenge quests were hell to deal with because odds were when you killed an avenger that he had buddies with similar tendencies and then it was just a never ending pain in the a**. Like a--Ich. Bad mental image.
Oooh, looked like the kid was cracking at least a little.
Cody leaned forward, hands now thoroughly clenched into a grip that would've done horrors to... say... styrofoam... as he stared Ramon down - or tried to at least, the necromancer was as ever unfazed - and failed to keep the growl out of his voice any longer. "No," he said slowly, though with a gathering sharpness to his tone, knife-edged to the point where he couldn't control it without bleeding at the verbal knuckles, "I'm giving you a warning."
It wasn't his--rare that he'd done this before, if ever. It was a hard stunt to pull, when you didn't know how much the opposition had at its disposal and the most of your own arsenal was how much sand you could get in their eyes.
There were a multitude of things to ask here, mostly because he wasn't particularly intimidated. Then again, it would take an act of God - or the godlike at the least - to intimidate Ramon. He knew when to accede to a stronger force, certainly, but rare was it for him to be truly frightened, or even of that slighter, subtler emotion that led to it. Ramon knew his place, but felt no particular need to fear it. And here he didn't even see a reason to backdown to the demonologists' demands. From what he'd found the Salubri, for all their wicked rumor, were as slow and reluctant to act as the bastardized image of an origin they'd claimed in the end of days.
And look where that'd gotten them. Bastardization. Ramon's definitions and attitudes towards such were a difficult mess, true enough - but he didn't see them as any cause for concern. In any case, Kingsley acting with the reluctance so typical to his bloodline gave the former Giovanni even less reason to quail. Though admittedly he had little knowledge of what might truly spark the boy to action he knew it would have to be a great deal more than merely his existence. The clever did not warn before the strike - which meant Kingsley was either an idiot or had no intention of actually doing so.
"And what to back up your demands?" he prodded in low, almost taunting inflection. But it was uncouth to taunt - and what's more, it was reserved for the most dire of hostilities.
Silence reigned for a moment so long Ramon wasn't sure whether to laugh or fear he'd miscalculated the length of Kingsley's fuse. It stretched tight and brittle over all three occupants of the room, tangible in the ever growing pressure of Ramon's lips pressing together in consternation he refused to admit to, in a sudden dawning to Mickey that all might not be well and brushed off for impotence and fear to move and in Kingsley's shaded eyes. Ramon found his own gaze drawn irresistibly to the scar-like slit set in the center of the clear, pale forehead. The knowledge of the third eye was in itself a mere curiosity, but suddenly becoming more aware of it than he had before - what was this strange sense of--
Far faster than he'd expected because a - he hadn't suspected the boy of such rapidity and b - he hadn't expected an attack at all, Kingsley's arm shot out across the desk and Ramon stood and stepped away only to fall straight back into the chair, a sharp, "Michael," cutting through the air too late as the vampire had moved at almost the same moment as the attack itself, sweeping forward to seize the boy's arm--
And there had indeed been a miscalculation, a terrible one--as in a flash of three eyes Kingsley's arm swung round to latch itself pale and strong fingered over Mickey's face--
And this was new, Mickey's mind informed his nervous system. But his nervous system was really a bit busy now thank you - could the mind perhaps call back when it wasn't busy being sliced, diced, burned and extracted through his pores please? This was an entirely new kind of pain - crippling, contracting - an explosion that first tore you into yourself with such a clarity of every individual, miniscule string of nerve-ending that there was no possible way you could be feeling so many screams at once--anything that'd end it, anything that--he could claw, tear, scream even--but no, all he could do was fall--
With the same surprising dexterity, Cody caught the still recovering--vampire, he knew that now - intimacy with the flow of life and all things otherwise could be useful every once in a while--by a grip on jacket and turtleneck, slamming the to all effects and purposes temporarily decommissioned 'butler's' head and shoulders on the desk with a frightening and unnecessary brutality. Once more he sought the attention of Ramon's gaze, all three eyes flaring with a paradoxically dark determination.
Another silence made its entrance, hovering heavy over the two now breathing, both intimately aware in deep and different part of their souls that they shouldn't be. It lay unbroken, for it was the dampening and consuming silence that couldn't quite be shattered or torn, not even by the occasional inching struggle of a shift in the third body, within which a mind protested that the dead had no right to feel so much pain.
Neither man seemed inclined to interrupt the silence just yet, neither ready to admit to nor reveal anything further. Ramon, for some unwell reason of his own, did not seem to care about the condition of his employee and if anything the predominantly neutral character of his face had the cast of a smile to it, indecipherably interested. What had that been? The crimson imprint left on retina, the cursory blaze of battle-tinted red that unknowable third eye had sparked just as Kingsley's hand collided with Michael's face - and the subsequent crumple of his vampire, like a discarded, battered child, no sign of resistance since. How aware was he now? Did he know he'd screamed? What would come of the Khaibit?
"That was the warning," Cody's voice crept harshly through the iron curtain, low... "Don't push me."
The third eye shone red once more, abrupt flash and revelation of the power Ramon could no more hope to understand than define, not with this little to go on - and the 'unicorn' let off his hold on Mickey, the demon's body sliding ungraciously off the desk to the floor with a thud, no more sign even of the occasional stunted struggle.
Ramon waited for the front door to close before moving to raise Michael from the scuffed wooden floor. He wasn't destroyed - that was something to consider. Either Kingsley was incapable or he hadn't wanted to risk Ramon personally holding a vendetta against him. The boy had done well in showing no especial haste in his departure, though he hadn't lingered unnecessarily - and now Ramon was acutely aware of how little he knew. They were in interesting times, apparently. Some things didn't change.
~*~
He hadn't been this twitchy, exhausted, pained or ready to die since final exams.
Oh hell. Oh hell oh hell oh hell.
Crouched on the side of the road midway from town to the townhouse and breathing regularly through his teeth, he began to wonder whether he ought to be lying down. But that would require going somewhere where it was safe to lie down and everywhere it was safe to lie down was currently occupied by people he really didn't want seeing him in this state, either because too many questions would be asked or - no, because too many questions would be asked. No, no, no.
He was going to throw up. Or dry heave. Or just die, he hadn't figured it out yet.
There was a price, apparently - and he should've figured. How long since he'd stopped paying attention to common sense? Of course things changed when their cause and effect shifted into a new--he hadn't thought about it, not really. The price had been the blood before, the power had been the blood. And now in a different state, from whence did the power come? Oh hell if he knew but it was there all the same because he could and he did call on it and he had and he had done it just too damn much and now he was going to die and that was really not going to be a good thing.
Ugh. Thoughts were a good sign, even if they were sort of lacking in coherency. Not gonna keel, not ever gonna keel. He'd done something. There'd been some effect. And if there wasn't... It'd been an intimidation tactic, he wasn't about to deny it. No way to deny it, really. But that didn't mean... there was nothing... he wouldn't...
Cody's hand raised to trail from his forehead and covered his eyes, thumb and fingers pressing to temples as lips drew up into a harsh and twisted frown. Nothing like a little violence to seal your fate. It'd just been so damn difficult - not for... he didn't really know.
Oh hell...
~*~
The chapel in back of the estate, where Mickey makes his haven.
Mickey: *wakes up slowly the next night, surprised to have a body again and also surprised that the body feels nothing like he remembers it feeling - namely in a great deal of pain* .........
Ramon: *dryly* I've taken this as your sick day. You weren't expected to have any, but given the circumstances I've decided to be lenient.
Mickey: *mutters* If by circumstances you mean 'line of fire while ON DUTY' I think I get it.
Ramon: *smiles, clearly amused* Bitter?
Mickey: *doesn't bother answering, sits up, feeling remarkably... fine* 'the hell was that?
Ramon: *musingly* I'm not sure.
Mickey: *stares, not wanting to be baleful but GOD FSCKING DAMNIT this is worse than plutonium >_o*
Ramon: How do you feel?
Mickey: *growling, but answering because he's curious too despite the grrkill grudge* Fresh as the Prince of Bel-Air.
Ramon: *looks contemplative* He's of no consequence, then.
Mickey: *coughs rudely*
Ramon: *smiles* What I mean to say... *stands from his chair* Mr. Kingsley should have killed you.
Mickey: Thanks.
Ramon: *smiles again, forgivingly* Because he didn't we must assume that he is either incapable or limited, meaning either that he cannot or will not do any more than he has so graciously shared with us thus far.
Mickey: *clicking together that oh right, it all goes back to the you only threaten if you can't take 'em thing* Hunh.
Ramon: *sharing his own thoughts, because he can and Mickey has to listen* I honestly believe we have no need to concern ourselves with his demands, though it may play to the advantage to make at least a pretense of obeying them for a time. There is some power within him, this we know - but I don't believe it to be deadly. ...However, I won't provide you with the details of any other citizens of my home.
Mickey: *sarcasto-cynic* Yuh huh.
Ramon: *smiiiile* You can't possibly avoid them if you don't know who they are. We will break Mr. Kingsley's rule as far as he expects us to break it. In the meantime I shall endeavor to discover just how many from my home have made a similar crossing...
Mickey: You do that. *stands as well, passing him*
Ramon: Do look out for yourself, Michael. *smile*
Mickey: *waves backwards, doesn't turn*
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Posted: Sat Dec 30, 2006 8:20 pm
VignettesRoles: Fukki, Elias, Arthur
Time: Varies.
Location: Ditto
==========='You can't help it, he's meddlesome,' he said, entirely too unsympathetic to be a decent aspect of one's conscience. Then again, he wasn't exactly the conscience part of the conscience, so all things considered...
'HELLO, POT,' came the reply, quick as rain, far too many decibels above mindful, 'I'M KETTLE. YOU'RE BLACK.'
The irritation was clear in both sides of the argument, freakishly similar in inflection and timing, in such a way that it was still difficult to see how it could've been mistaken, hidden for so long. No, it was easy enough to explain away. Who could've guessed? Because no matter how easy it is to be your own worst enemy, there are certain levels no one ever expects to see that conflict escalate to.
'That's not denial,' the first, harsher voice pointed out in typical cutting edge.
'Oh yeah, like that'd do any good--'
"I remember when you two had shut up," Fukki muttered so passive-aggressively it might well have been taken for a murmur. He was met by a long mental silence, during which a disturbing lot of nothing came to mind. Bastards. Taking the opportunity to fiddle with a pen, the hem of his shirt, a pebble tumbling lazily down the rooftop and his own lounging position on said rooftop the former doushi attempted to weigh the merits of an exorcism without letting himself know what he was on to. There was a certain comfort to knowing he was never alone, perhaps, but when the company was himself? Oh, it got complicated after a while. Not liking himself on a very personal level was often the very least of his problems.
It'd been easier not too long ago - when, as noted, he'd settled down for the most part. Settled into the idea of just one idea, of just one opinion with varying degrees of unsurety - just the same as the rest of the world. But it just... it felt recently as though everything had become suddenly, inexplicably more jumbled. Like a reawakening - the kind where you were unceremoniously dumped from cozy comforters onto all sorts of interestingly pointy and unpleasant objects you'd forgotten you even owned but had apparently seen fit to strew about your room for no apparent reason other than that the room was there. Rude, in short. Even more frustrating, the feeling he'd imbibed far too much metaphorical caffiene to fall back into somnambulance anytime soon.
Hell with it - he didn't know what metaphor said metaphysical caffiene had derived from nor how on earth he was supposed to get away from this growing sense of.... responsibility in the face of inevitability. You couldn't--you didn't just let things go, not when they were going to go... er... well... 'boom', for lack of a more fitting explanation. And with the sense of impending doom had come the revival of duality, right when he wanted nothing more than for a simple plan possessed of the quality of single-mindedness to be the first and only option at hand. But no. Back to arguing with himself in the most uniquely difficult way imaginable.
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,' screamed the second voice.
Eventually Fukki managed to extract himself from the reactionary fetal position, head still pounding and feathers still in inflated disarray from shock and pain, "What?" he demanded hastily, teeth gritting, "What is it--what's wr--"
'He just wanted to see if you were still paying attention,' the first voice muttered petulantly.
'Stop that,' the second snapped, 'I hate it when you do that.'
'Can't help it,' the first yawned in such a way that it was rather clear he could. Though they all knew it wouldn't exactly be helpful if he did - might even lead to more freaky and/or detrimental side effects. They were drifting far enough apart already, thank you very much - more boundaries, more walls... despite the comfort they might be on one level, would not be advisable on any other. Because no matter how much it might pain him to be one and one alone, faced with realities and consequences of past actions that he was not entirely responsible for and yet simultaneously could not escape... to seek a re-distancing would be not only to be wholly wrong in that it just wasn't okay to be less than whole when you knew the alternative, but to set that responsibility free... to allow for one self to be free of that guilt and that horror... was to allow that horror to be free of guilt.
Oh s**t, he hadn't meant to get that monologue-ish.
'I thought it was funny,' the first voice commented in such a way it was difficult to tell whether he was more disgusted or genuinely entertained.
'I didn't like it,' the second threw in hastily, 'Don't do it again.' Clear in the rush of his tone that he really, honestly hadn't, likely because it involved his comfort level more than anything else. That and it wasn't the sort of thing he'd ever liked to hear put so clearly, even if it happened to be on his mind more often than anything else. Which, for the record, it was.
"Unh," he sounded out non-committally. Burn in hell, he added silently.
'Can't,' the first, almost ******** you.'
Oh. Name-calling. Right. This was a whole new level of pathetic.
'Actually, we haven't gotten to that yet. We're just swearing.' No, that was definitely gleeful.
"Shut up," Fukki moaned, massaging a temple and sitting up to stare listlessly towards the horizon. This wasn't going to work. Here they were - everyone, not just him - on the edge of something bigger than he cared to have anybody wandering near the edge of and he couldn't even decide what cereal he wanted on your average morning. This was not going to go well. It just wasn't.
~*~
Mr. Dunsirn -
The next time you consider sending any sort of contact my way, take note that the reply will undoubtedly involve either brutal dismemberment of the messenger or the means of delivery, likely followed by a meticulous disintegration of your means of communication and a subsequent breaking into many pieces of your hands.
~E.L.
~*~
For the third time in not nearly so many hours, Arthur had to remind himself to take his staff with him. This wandering about out in the open couldn't be good for him - which was perhaps partly the reason he so frequently indulged in it - and that was clear enough in that his memory seemed to be going. But not nearly so evident in his... lack of wheezing at the scent of fresh air. Perhaps the atmosphere had grown thicker in the holidays - he couldn't be sure. But trekking through the snow had never done him well in the past, so why should it suddenly become so much less of a trial now?
No, not something he fancied to think on, especially not considering all past conversations with Mordred and how all those conversations had ended in... revelations. Painfully enough.
Pain, that wasn't what he sought now - nor comfort, nor anything he could put a finger on - which was frustrating for someone who considered his vocabulary to be so precisely vast, if only to himself. What then was this disturbing lot of... it wasn't health. Wasn't wellness. Wasn't anything good.
But something... else... was lacking... and that thing lacking wasn't good either.
On with the trekking, then. To numb the feet and mind and eyes with nothingness, and to let them not be bothered by that concept. It had been a year, a singularly trying and withering year. And it was coming to an end.
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Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 3:33 pm
What the hell had he been up to? Hmmm... How to sum all of that up without cutting any important details out. He didn't want this... 'unicorn' allowing his imagination run wild, so he best leave no room for the imagination to take hold and draw up some impossible, completely insane scenarios.
What the hell had he been up to was a good ******** question. Miika wasn't even sure he knew the answer anymore. It all started off with Alex. Sweet, beautiful Alex... just meeting him on the beach on the slimmest chances, and then that other showed up. They had their conversation, and Miika waited to see if Alex would return.
Mikkael showed up, and made a few threats directed towards Alex, though the bird had been unaware at the time due to carrying on his conversation with the other man. Mikkael left when Miika returned the threats. Alex had, obviously, returned to Miika on the beach. Then all the events in his house took place. The doubts, the fears, the tests...
Next came running away to an abandoned, run-down asylum where they got knocked out by the same fox that Miika had been told to watch out for. After that, he and Alex had started to get close, and woke up to another demon crouching over them. That demon was... Marks! Yes, Marks was his name.
Andie made that demon leave, and finally, they had ended up here... talking to this dip s**t. Yes.. quite full of events, they were. But either way, the 'unicorn' wasn't going to be happy with any way he answered, so he simply gave a very light shrug and a smile. "Keeping Alex safe from vampires," The demon responded. No matter what answer he gave, he was sure that this Kingsley fellow was not going to be happy with it... so might as well give him a hint of the truth.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 12:56 pm
...well that was a particularly efficient way of making it all a little more peculiar and terribly more awkward. Though perhaps it was impossible to avoid the latter with Kingsley in such a mood. Such a mood being defined primarily by a perverse and apparently inescapable need to find something wrong with the whole affair, no matter how benign the crux of the situation - and given the... fairly un-innocuous heart of the matter, that mood was going to be quite unfortunately sated in its lust for something... wrong.
But that for all the long moments of the past few days, so full of silence, so heavy with things left unspoken and the burden of a possibility that, even when it made itself manifest, managed to be ingeniously ambiguous in drive and direction… Despite all that... A need, a desire remained. A want not to let them go, not to forsake the confusion and concerns and quickenings of pulse and breath and ultimately confusingly hasty stirrings.
He knew in that moment that no matter how those words - specifically the keyword of 'vampire' - might affect Kingsley's actions, opinions or inclinations, he was not going to back down from this decision, this desire to remain at Miika's side - not only out of an inexplicably sprung sense of dedication but from... no, it was part and parcel of that dedication - though felt as though it had begun to branch, turn to something new. And, while unbidden and unfamiliar, this something new... was worth clinging to, grasping close and sheltering. He was afraid to let it loose, even, for fear it might crumble or mist away.
The hand brushing Miika's tightened unconsciously then, holding with a renewed sense of determination. No foul mood nor past altercation was going to make him let go of this - whatever concerns Kingsley might have, they were undoubtedly founded upon the past and had nothing at all to do with the events of the past few days, even if those past events... had been a little troublesome.--but never mind that, not for now. There were a few things wanting straightening out before allowing for concerns of history.
"Again?" something of an irritated snort, something of a frustrated groan, a dash of fear well concealed as anger. Not a-bloody-gain! Why was it always vampires? Sheezus Christ in a bucket! But Cody caught the sudden hardening and glint in Alex's illuminated eyes and the mildest of twitches sprung up once at the corner of his frown as he leaned, suddenly casual against the doorframe and re-evaluated the scene before him.
No, he didn't entirely trust Alex's judge of character. But he wasn't paranoid enough to consider someone claiming to have protected Alex and then brought him back home was just weaving some elaborate conspiracy to ******** with him - everyone - Alex especially. It just didn't happen that way. Well. Okay, he could think of a scenario where--only he wasn't going to because that was stupid. Besides, it was easy enough to take for granted that Alex had, for some reason, needed protecting. Therefore it would make sense for someone to just step in and take care of it - the kid had that effect on people anyway, a magnetism that didn't necessarily but more often than not inspired the need to care for his daydreaming tendencies in any capacity one could manage. What's more, then other things would make sense, specifically the kid's failure to contact him and the way he'd avoided mentioning it previously.
Also. From this angle he was going to have to start considering broken-winged Miika Cordaire as the lesser of two evils. (Still an 'evil' at all because who knew how much of this 'vampire' mess was more directly related to the demon than to them? Them being everyone from home. Because... you know. Hell. In general. And morbid, dangerous stuff like that that he'd take all manner of measures to make sure never came near them - particularly Alex and Oliver - again.) "Anybody I know?" he asked pointedly, a little darkly, concerning riding high in his tone - which could even be considered improvement, if one bothered to remember the contrasting PMS of only a few seconds before.
Theoretically, no. Not primarily, at least. And Marks... was a complicated issue Alex wasn't actually inclined to mention if he could help it, for more reasons than simple desire not to have Kingsley worry more than was absolutely necessary. "I don't... think so," Alex started hesitantly before--
Something gave and Cody pulled away from the door, making room for the two to enter at will, "Get inside," he interrupted, somewhere between a demand and a weary mutter, "It's cold - I'm gonna assume you're not being followed for my own peace of mind - who were they, where'd they come from and what the hell did they want in the first place?"
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 1:58 pm
For long, silent moments the demon had just stood there, taking in the scene of Cody as Cody had been taking in the scene of... them. Feeling the tightening on his hand, his gold eyes flickered down briefly and the corner of his mouth pricked up just barely before falling back into place to show that same, solemn look he had had before. Shaking his head softly at Cody's question, despite the fact that Alex had vocally expressed the answer, just to confirm that Cody... Alex - Hell, none of them - knew the vampires he spoke of.
Brows furrowing lightly when the other pulled away from the door frame to actually permit them entrance, he glanced down towards Alex before hearing Cody's question and comment. Ah. The whole, 'I want to know it all,' conversation was quickly brewing and rising to the top of their little... get together. What a brilliant way to start things off, well... not that anything could really be much worse than it already was.
... But judging by that look in Alex's eyes, and the tightening of their hands... he had reason - though probably not strong enough or good enough - to believe that despite what this situation could turn into, he wasn't leaving. What if they were forced to... part ways for a few days? would Alex still be this determined to hold onto... whatever new and foreign... feelings? connections? ... bonds were stringing together between them.
Would Alex be willing to see him in secrecy if it came down to just that? ... Doubts. Why were there always doubts? ... But honestly, could Alex truely choose Miika - a broken-winged, doubt and fear filled demon - over the people he had held close for... how ever many years? Miika wasn't sure anymore of the answer. If it had not been but a few days ago, he instantly would have gave himself a negative answer... but for some reason, he found himself very incapable of doing that now, despite the doubts and fears that boiled inside of him.
Slowly he entered the house, arm extending back towards Alex. If the other wanted to let go of his hand, he could... and if Alex wanted to quickly regain the ground between them that had opened up as Miika moved in through the open door way, he could do that as well. The demon would surely wish for the latter rather than the former. "I'll answer when we're all inside," Miika replied quietly. Not that they were being followed, or he would have smelt those two damned mosquitoes, but just because one never knew what itchy ears were lurking just beyond eye sight.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 2:42 pm
It felt like capitulation of sorts, when Kingsley just... backed down. Not like any sort of acceptance he would've hoped for or trusted in - no, something... wasn't quite right with his friend. But that'd been true for who knew how long already - and really, who knew? Because with all the time spent apart, when there had been no one to keep an eye on the tempestuous elder Kingsley... Time had not gone well for him - for any of them, necessarily. But Kingsley had been alone for so much of it...
And now he wasn't sure what was going on behind those angry eyes - which worried him, certainly, but on another level... didn't matter. Because that about which those eyes were angry was, frankly, none of those eyes' business. So there.
Choosing that closeness, Alex tagged after Miika at a hair's breadth of space between. It wasn't the end of the world for Kingsley to be miffed - he could say that from comparative experience, even - and the best way to deal with his friend's insistent stand-offishness was likely to refuse to bend to its ornery will. ...Either that or for some reason he was completely disinclined to rescind his previous conviction. Which was... true... he was fairly certain - but again... a little more than baffling.
Apparently deciding that the hallway was inappropriate for conversation, the bird atypically took the lead to the common room just off the hall they'd entered into, opposite the kitchen. This place... a good an entrance as any, one that'd held a few too many introductions to define them separately - though a certain few less simple ones came to mind... hopefully there would be less belligerence involved here - though with current company... he doubted it would go quite that far. Then again, they weren't the only ones in this house.
Settling for the couch on the farside of the room, the bird resisted the urge for the comfort of knees drawn up and deigned to sit like your average adult, feet on the floor and all. Calm, lucid, logical - best suited adjectives for the words to be displayed here.
Okay, fine. He could deal with that. He didn't like it, no, but then Cody wasn't going to be the last to admit he didn't like a whole lot of things. Like the unfounded closeness he was reading between Alex and Miika Cordaire. Where the hell had that come from? All right, not entirely surprising given the scenarios he could conjured and knowledge of the kid's tendencies but--
But he'd never expected to see it happen again. Not that he really ever had but for the once - well, not firsthand. And--and hell, this only ever happened with the kid when things happened - the kind of happening that was neither predictable nor peaceable, and that made him nervous - subsequently edgy, subsequently paranoid, subsequently aggressively disinclined towards strangers, especially ones in proximity to his people.
But... benefit of the doubt - had to try and cling to that. Only benefit of the doubt had way more tendency to bring you grief than shoot-first-ask-questions-later. Which, okay, he kind of had already. Whatever, good show --Cody flopped unceremoniously down upon an armchair across from the couch Alex had chosen, look still sour but definitively less pissed than before. "Spill," he commanded with an arrogant wave of hand at Miika Cordaire.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 3:09 pm
Allowing himself to be led into the common room, though he had no clue that was what this room was called. Standing while Alex took his seat, unsure of where to sit, he gave a light sigh and walked to the side of the couch, leaning back lightly against the wall.
As he did this, a gruesome crunching sound followed by a painful snapping sound came from the broken wings upon his back. A small wince and he hunched his shoulders forward so his wings wouldn't be crushed between his body and the wall behind him. That... hadn't been good, his wings had never given him that reaction before. Normally they just flattened back against the wall and, despite the general discomfort of that, had made no snapping or crunching sounds.
Numbly, the demon reached up a hand and moved it to his shoulder, lightly feeling along the now bent and twisted wing. Tangled and tormented, he was indeed... And perhaps he had not lied when he said that he was falling apart at the seams... though he had only said that as a light joke... But perhaps he was really starting to fall apart.
Focusing gold eyes towards the ground, he allowed his hand to drop away from his shoulder, though his palm found the way to his lips. Surely Alex had figured out what that meant by now - embarassment, perhaps even shame or discomfort. Shaking his head lightly, Miika sucked in a light breath and glanced to Alex, focusing his gaze onto the bird... eyes seeming to tender up, as did his expression.
Quickly he snapped his golden eyes towards Cody, and they narrowed just softly. Though, this was not the narrow of anger or dislike, but it was obvious that he was more or less trying to think of where to start with these vampires. "Maybe Du'Coudrae and Mikkael Du'Coudrae," He spat out their names as if they brought a sour taste into his mouth. Which, perhaps, they did.
Being plagued by those damned vampires was no celebration, nor was it anything even feigning joy. The only joy he had gotten out of it was spilling the blood of half of Maybe's fledglings... Now the only two left were Mikkael and Maybe, and damnit, how he wanted to give them the slowest deaths that could ever manage to find it's way to a vampire's existance...
Drawing his attention back, he glanced towards Cody before looking back towards the ground. "I'm not sure where they came from. Maybe and Mikkael don't come from anywhere, they're simply... there. Literally like a plague, the moment you start to feel weak, they come... day or night, crowded or alone. They're parasites, and they've been walking on the dirt beneath our feet for far more years than I can ever care to count."
At least he was being honest, whether or not the honest truth would anger or please Cody... or even Alex, for that matter. Why not tell the truth? They both deserved to know the honest truth... especially Alex. "What they wanted in the first place is something I can't even begin to imagine, or rather, something I don't even want to imagine. They follow anyone that they find potential in. What kind of potential I can't even be sure of. They had bothered me for a few years, until... until my brother disappeared, and then they left me alone."
Miika swallowed hard at the mention of his brother, and his body seemed to shake lightly. Rexeliel... what ever happened to him? Was it Miika's fault that there was a chance something terrible had happened to him? If... if he had just shown up when he promised Liel he would, then everything would have been okay, right? Doubts. Fears. Push them back, lock them away. Taking a shakey breath, he shook his head lightly.
"They saw Alex that night on the beach, the same night I first saw him... Mikkael decided that he wanted Alex, probably as his personal puppet or... sex doll, that's why they wanted my brother... so I can only assume that's why they wanted Alex. I don't know where my brother went, or what happened, but... I took it upon myself to protect Alex, and... thankfully, he didn't protest against me," The demon raised his eyes to gaze at Alex, a very soft, small smile crossing up onto his lips.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 3:55 pm
A man walked alone on a road obviously... not less travelled, but.. not frequently walked upon. It was as if the road led to somewhere that was partly avoided, and partly seeked out. Curiosity was already building it's way up inside this particular male, and he was determined to found out what was at the end of this road, if that was what it could be called.
It was dark, well.. it was dark enough for someone to be in need of some form of light. And while a torch would suite him so much better, he settled for his candle. Ah, his candle. A smile caressed his lips as he glanced brilliant eyes, the color that resembled a forest in the late spring and early summer, towards the small white wax with the orange, wickering flame.
Now, perhaps a candle wasn't the smartest idea... to most. It gave off such a little amount of light, and even the slightest breeze could put it out. True, very true, but Joseph had more... confidence in his little candle then most had for a bon fire. Why would that be that he would put so much trust into one tiny, pitiful little candle?
Well, that was something very simple. Since he had found himself here, with a set of ears and a slender tail, he had discovered something new about himself. Generally it was said that the dark played tricks on the mind... when one heard a noise, they would see only what they wanted to see... Perhaps they wouldn't think they wanted to see it, but everyone needed something to fear.
Without fear there was no humanity. Fear was an essence of humanity... from small phobias to the vast tricks ones' mind could play in the dark. Seeing strange creatures, hunched over with pale skin and glowing eyes that made strange, inexplicable noises that no human nor creature associated with society could ever make.
Something akin to the things one would only find in horror stories, or perhaps plaguing nightmares one would recieve after watching some cheesy horror film. There were far worse things that stayed hidden in the dark, and most preferred to have something with great light to keep the dark away... to keep it from closing in on them.
So, why, then did Joseph trust a candle to keep him safe from his own mind summoning up fears and placing them into the dark? Oh, so simple. The more light that was used to banish the dark, the more shadows there were. The more light, the darker the shadows became. Small shadows behind a tree would grow pitch black as the light grew in around it, and that was far more dangerous than hearing a noise and seeing what your mind wanted you to see.
For in the shadows that lurked when there was more light than any could hope for, were things that were not made up by the mind. Creatures or beings that were truely there. Nothing akin to hearing a sound and making an image to go with it. You would hear the sound, but your mind could make up no image, for almost all the dark had vanished. What was worse than knowing that you were not truely alone, knowing that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you with the dark?
Less light was always better, and the candle offered just enough light to bounce along the road infront of him. That was all he needed. His vision had already been enhanced, and he could see perfectly well into the vast darkness that his candle-light could not reach. He could smell better, as well. Besides, Joseph was already afraid... and with being afraid as he was already, he was prepared for spooky things. Going into the darkness without fear could lead to unimaginable things... Panic, insanity... Going into the darkness with fear of knowing that you would not-- could not-- possibly be alone, that there was something, or there would soon be something to lurk along in that darkness was less dangerous... It made your body more prepared, prepared your mind... and the things that were conjured up in your mind... Well, heh, nothing could ever be as frightening as the images that popped into one's head... so in the end, you ended up less frightened than before.
And that, is why Joseph carried nothing but his small wax candle with its small, not so pathetic little flame.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 4:08 pm
Attention snapped forward and Alex's head jerked to the side at the sound, subtle movements swallowed by sudden fear - what--there'd been a tug and drop in his chest, the strange plummet of emotion that dictated idioms of clenching and stopping hearts. There was concern in his expression, accompanied by a need to reach out, to soothe - but he didn't know how, or whether it was--or what to do, ultimately. He'd feared from the very first each moment that Miika's tattered back brushed against any hard, unforgiving surface, and now, to have that fear solidified--
Lips pressed tightly together as he stared up to meet Miika's gaze, not bothering to hide the uncertain worry. Something... wasn't right.
Hey what? Cody's eyes narrowed shrewdly and with a touch of concern at the sickening crunch - doctor's instinct and what-not. He didn't need bedside manner to sense something not right, nor to get his fingers twitching to do something about it. Though he still didn't know just how far he wanted to help and/or encourage this guy and thus--yeah, gonna have to wait for the explanation to actually do anything about it. Nice thing about never having taken the Hippocratic Oath - beyond being able to punch the lights out of ******** - was being able to decline aid.
But... but he let it go... And sat with eyes trained on his demon's face and shoulders and riven wings as with these new words and explanations he'd not himself heard, the sinking heart failed to rise and the urge to do something more than watch and wait soared in place of comfort.
A brother? Of that he'd heard nothing, and it... frightened him on some level that Miika hadn't - possibly hadn't been able to mention him. It certainly didn't make the telling or the hearing any easier. And... and he couldn't let it go, let the mention slip past as if it were simply something new to consider - because it wasn't that small nor simple. Because no matter how much it might be lost in words that tantalized and awakened memories of so-soon-ago and brought to mind that yes, he'd been with Miika and it'd been in some ways necessary and in some ways more than that...
Without any further hesitation the bird stood with patently short though graceful movements, maneuvering Miika - with he hoped little protest, because he wasn't going to give on this - to sit on the couch, hands pressed gently to hand or shoulder, small hopes to shelter. "It's all right," voice low and - though unsure of what exactly he was comforting for - full of a desire to compose and relieve.
And Cody watched, elbows resting on knees, frown deepening in a way more seriously peeved than before, though now directionlessly upset - perhaps a good thing in lieu of that--oh yeah, always the--no, not an always. He didn't have any ******** idea how it'd gotten like this - a demon broken in ways more metaphorical than he cared to consider too deeply that Alex had, for some deeply karmic and unsatisfactory reason, chosen to--he didn't want to say it, didn't really want to think about it too hard.
Especially when it was just so much easier to deal with the consequences of this new force in his life.
How. The. HELL. Did. This. Keep. Happening? It was like--like living in a freaking tv show, the horror kind where you got the creature-feature, the monster of the week. With recurring themes. And doom doom ******** doom. Because now he didn't just have this tormented soul to deal with but apparently all the unresolved torment following at his heels. Oh yes. This was going to be ******** GREAT.
"I'm going to skip over all the incriminating niceties that brought you two to said beach of doom," he announced eventually, watching intently but not protesting (for now) the closeness between them, "But I am going to have to know just how big an axe you think it's going to take to chop off said heads of said leeches. Alternatively - how fresh the wound is," he jerked a nod towards Miika, clearly referring to the recently snapping appendages, "Just how much've you done in terms of protection?" Not an accusation, no, but it seemed to carry weight of a question of repayment.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 4:43 pm
Miika turned his head away when Alex approached him, but moved to the couch without a fuss. Sitting down, his eyes focused on the ground as he thought about Liel. No. Nobody needed to know about Liel, and nobody needed to patch those wounds up. Nobody but Leil, those were his wounds-- Liel's wounds... They weren't wounds belonging to Stefan, Raecelyn, Cody... or even Alex. These were wounds that nobody but himself and Liel were responsible for.
... he wished he hadn't mentioned a brother, he didn't want anyone to have to know about Rexeliel... but he also didn't like the guilt he felt for keeping anything hidden from the robin. Glaring down towards the ground, the demon finally gave out a little shrug.
How much protecting had he done? He hadn't done very ******** well when Marks showed up, that was for sure. In fact, Miika was still cursing himself for walking out of that bedroom, even when Alex had been holding onto him lightly, obviously wanting him to have stayed in the room.
But... he couldn't let the run-in with Marks get in his way now, he didn't want anything else to cloud his mind. It was far too clouded already. Body relaxing lightly so that Alex could do whatever he pleased, whatever comforting Alex needed to do so that the bird would feel better. "I..."
Miika fell silent again before he looked back up towards Cody. Jesus what was he supposed to say? How much had he done on terms of protection? "I've done my best to protect him so far, but I'm not sure what that will mean to you... or Alex.." The demon closed his eyes. Honestly, he didn't even know how much protecting he had done... "That question is best of directed towards Alex, not me. He can tell you how much I've done, based on how many times he's felt safe and protected... and if you're wanting me to leave, well... I think that will also be left up to Alex. If he feels I'm no longer necessary for his... safety, and only when he says so, I'll go. Until then... I'm still protecting him."
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 5:58 pm
It wasn't that he didn't like being alone - he did in fact feel boundlessly safer without other people around to make a mess of things and themselves. It wasn't that it was dark either - though recent encounters in the company of certain blundering fools hunting certain unbelievably strange and creepy quarry had made him more than a little edgy about night and trees. It wasn't even that it was cold - though God knew he hated it - made you need all sorts of heavy clothing he didn't have the time nor interest for.
It was--it was the principle of things. Darcy Rue, for all that he was an independent force within the team and of himself, didn't like acting alone. Without orders. Ish. That was kind of it. He didn't--he didn't really like being told what to do, far preferred to have his own say in and to agree with any and all commands - but he hadn't been able to--
It was--
It was aggravating, frustrating, confusing, damning--and maybe even ultimately useless to go seeking help from--he didn't even know, know who they were or really what connection they had to his employer but--but Darcy was sick and tired of fretting over being ignorant. How. ********. DARE. That ingrate of a man fail to explain just how little a gunshot did to a real vampire.
Maybe he should've watched more horror flicks in his day - but--but--agh! And then to send him off with that buffoon of a hunter, the one with some sort of inexplicable vendetta and credo that prevented him from just outright killing the menace and made him waste time and make the whole damn thing more dangerous with--and ultimately made the whole damn thing fall through as they hadn't ended up killing the creatures in the end. Despite all the trouble and--and--
He needed help. And he wasn't going to get it from Sa'di or (God-help-him) Cassidy. Which left the people at that house - the ones... somehow connected to Peregrine Kingsley. There was a mess brewing Darcy did not fancy falling into. And there... there just had to be some way out.
But time and time again he'd utterly failed to get it. Actually staying after what brief exchanges he'd had would help, certainly - but no, no help for it there. It was intrusive and... and he didn't like the chat he'd had with that other cat, Thierry, the one who shared a familial resemblance to the hunter who'd managed to ******** up so royally. What the hell was going on here?
He'd deal with it tomorrow - or the day after that - or the day after that - or... or whatever. Going home for now - or to get a drink, he wasn't sure just yet - just--just away from this place, this place that was too welcoming, too full of empty rooms needing filling.
The small flicker of light on down the road caught his senses into hypervigilance, bringing them to a crashing action as he steeled himself not to leap back in reactionary idiocy. Nothing doing - just a... a man on the road and his... candle? Darcy had absolutely had it with ambiguous oddities. A candle? And in such elegant arraignment. A candle?
The kitten paused on his side of the road, watching the approaching cat with pale eyes that gleamed in the way of a predator caught for a moment in the corner of a headlight, arms crossed beneath the thin jacket. Call him paranoid but this didn't seem normal enough just to let pass by.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 6:21 pm
Now there was a question he didn't like. Alex shot a short, disapproving glance to the 'unicorn' before taking to--no, he still--just didn't know what to do, other than what he wanted... which was to somehow ease whatever ache afflicted Miika now - or ever, really - but... now specifically, when he didn't understand it and for that reason found himself... it wasn't quite distressed, not panicked enough for that. But... it went a ways past concerned.
"You don't catch my meaning," Cody shook his head after a pause, during which he leaned back in his chair, limbs resting on the generous arms of the chair, one leg pulled up and forming half a tailor's seat, ankle resting above thigh. "I'm not trying to be so subjective." Besides which... if he was going to have to ask the kid's opinion... whatever answer he got... well, wouldn't really matter at a point like this. He'd argued with the kid in the past, and when it came to the important things they disagreed on - more often than not Alex made it quite clear his opinion didn't matter. Well. Kind of. It depended.
He just sort of got the feeling that disapproving of Miika Cordaire wasn't going anywhere. "Look, I'm not after how 'safe' either of you felt," especially since from the look in the kid's eye it wasn't so much a concern of whether he'd felt safe as a matter of whether he could take care of that demon--"What I want to know is very, very simple. Maybe I could've phrased it better. What, happened, to, you? What've you risked? Your back. That got anything to do with our two new favorite freakshows?"
Much as he hated to admit it, that was probably the closest they were going to get to approval. And he didn't like it, not particularly - not in this manner. When it was so much more Kingsley taking anger out on something and avoiding the words with heavier implications than actually trying to discern and evaluate a situation.
But... it wasn't belligerence.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 7:51 pm
OOC: May take me a bit to get a good postu in for Joseph, but it shall be soon. o3o
Miika lightly lifted a hand to rub a shoulder before allowing to drop. It was obvious that Alex wanted to comfort whatever... what did he want to comfort? Did he want to comfort the demon emotionally, or did he just want to comfort the aches and pains that the broken and tattered wings caused?
Eyes slowly drifted to look towards Cody, jaw clenching lightly at the question directed towards his wings. Mikkael and Maybe had everything to do with it, and yet nothing at all. That was... that was more or less the damage to Miika's soul being worn on the outside, being worn physically and not emotionally or mentally.
At least.. that was how he thought of it. It was best to take damage physically than anything mental or emotional. Looking back down towards the ground, he was unsure of what to say-- or rather, unsure of what Cody and Alex wanted to hear.
"Both yes and no. My brother started the damage when I tried to protect him from... Mikkael and Maybe, and they just sort of finished it off," Miika looked towards Cody before he looked back down to the ground. Obviously he didn't like to talk about his wings, any physical damage, and.. he especially didn't like to talk about his brother.
"That was long before Alex or yourself, they heard word that my brother was here, in this... community, so they've turned their attention to looking for him. They've lost interest in Alex and everyone associated with him." Miika winced lightly at the mention of the rumor that his little brother was... here, but reached out a hand to lightly pat Alex's hand, as if to let him know that it was okay... and that he didn't need to... do anything at the moment.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 10:50 pm
That... really wasn't something they'd covered previously, the topic of siblings... and he heard and understood the inflections that pleaded for a change in subject, begged a shift in focus... but that did little to dissuade concern. There'd already been a hint, a wisp of guilt at previous realizations that for everything he thought, he hoped to give to Miika, he received far too much in return. Such as... ignorance... and the protection that arose specifically from lack of knowledge.
He didn't... like it. To see Miika become any more battered than he already was was not only painful in and of itself but caused a keen ache in the knowledge that... well, it'd become more clear in Kingsley's words, when he'd chosen syllables like 'risk', a sound that with its final accent forced him to acknowledge that for all he'd wanted to stay and bridge the breaching gap between his demon and all modicum of comfort... it hadn't been easy for Miika, and it might very well get worse. Because... he, Alex, apparently had to be looked out for.
There had to be something... worth his staying, his keeping by Miika's side that wouldn't end in responsibility or risk. There had to be something he could do, had done, something more powerful or significant than just... reaching out... which should've been done by someone, anyone, time and time ago - but... but just hadn't and--and what was done was done. He'd promised not to leave - but that promise had been made under the assumption that the most consequence would be to himself and not to Miika Cordaire.
The bird took the hand that brushed his own, refused to let it go - though his grip was not, perhaps couldn't be, harsh, and was instead characterized by a gentle, clinging grip - "We--shouldn't we be looking for him, then?" he pressed, words somewhat stunted in the persistent knowledge that Miika didn't really want to talk about it --but the just as insistent belief that avoiding the subject wouldn't do anything for anyone's nerves - nor the Cordaire brother's safety, surely.
The 'unicorn's' position of relaxation shifted slightly, initially the only sign he'd been listening at all as his expression failed to change even a mote of a quirk and no noise escaped the slightly twisted mouth.
Well.
Not the worst case scenario.
Assuming it was the truth.
But he wasn't getting the dirty-liar vibe off of this one - which meant Miika Cordaire was either spectacularly smooth or.... honest. The latter being the bounds more likely scenario but maybe-sometimes-what-if were words Cody generally avoided with a big, fiery vengeance when it came to Alex and his general well-being.
Okay, he could deal with this - just... keep an eye out for suspicious vampires, take extra precautions and drop out a few lines of contact to see what people'd heard, what they'd found... Might even be worth dropping a hint to the little kitten that'd come by earlier, the one who'd mentioned Peregrine and Hunters and to whom Cody had pointedly not talked to for long. Right. Totally under control.
Except that there was a clearly crippled demon on his couch (yes, his, no one slept on it more than he did damnit) and Alex looked about ready to blow a gasket with all that fretting. "Hunh," he said finally, sitting up straighter, still focused straight on Miika. Anyone injured in the line of fire of vampires... erk.... he just sort of felt this latent responsibility, you know? But if Miika didn't want help he wasn't going to get help. "Well. Looks like you survived. Who you looking to find first? Baby Cordaire or the blood-sucking crazies?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 05, 2007 1:51 am
The demon was... confused. Utterly, totally, undoubtedly confused. Not with Cody, not with the vampires, not with said 'baby Cordaire.' No... not with any of them... but with his robin. It was obvious that Alex must have sensed the need, the urgency of a change of subject... but yet he pressed on, despite stunted words.
No longer looking to Cody, as the 'unicorn' had been silent for too long to hold Miika's attention any longer at the time, he bit his lower lip lightly. Go looking for Rexeliel? Them.. together... looking for Rexeliel...? Now, the demon understood fully well that under the circumstances he had not had the proper time nor... strength... to go into the topic of Rexeliel and fully discuss the inner workings of his younger brother... but--
... But the suggestion that 'shouldn't we be looking for him' was simply... well... it was madness. The idea in itself of Alex and Miika together going on search for someone where they had no clue as to where they should even begin was a little off-color all on its own... but when that in which they were looking for just so happened to be little Liel... well that was just insane.
Perhaps if he had been honest before, or rather... open, as he had not shed one lie throughout the entire time he and Alex had been... together, then maybe Alex would know better than to ask such a question that involved we... But Miika hadn't been open enough to speak of his little brother, of how little Liel operated, nor how... extremely selfish Rexeliel could be.
Subconciously, fingers found their way inbetween the robin's fingers, entangling themselves with his lightly at the gentle, clingy hold of his hand. Nibbling on his lip a bit more, he finally turned and looked to Cody when he spoke. Closing his eyes, he shook his head softly. "If we were just speaking about finding the vampires, then we could go together... but since we're discussing either my brother or the vampires... that makes things a little more complicated."
The demon paused in his words, shaking his head lightly as he thought for a few long moments. "I assure you that neither of you would enjoy running into Rexeliel... It would be unpleasant for either of you. Rexeliel... is..." the demon's words faded as he turned to look at Alex one more, gazing into gray eyes as he seemed to rather freeze up with a certain... fear. "... Rexeliel is... Its not that I feel I must protect you, Alex, it's... that... I want to. Not that you need it, or that I feel its my responsiblity, or burden, or whatever else it could be interpreted as... But..." another pause as words caught in his throat, glancing from Cody to Alex.
"... Rexeliel is.. He's... selfish and clingy and so... completely needy.. Constantly depending on me, or anyone that is naive enough to get too close to him. With his selfishness comes the jealousy of the thought of having to share me with you-- someone... anyone-- for even a few, short moments.
I would have to talk to him first, alone... to explain everything to him. Explain things that... that I don't even know how to begin explaining." Drawing in a breath, and letting it out in a heavy sigh as the demon glanced down towards the ground. "I don't want our promises to break, Alex... and... that's why I'm going to need time before I even think about looking for Rexeliel.
I'm not saying that Liel is a danger to any of us, because he's not a danger in the least, but he is my sibling... and I am responsible for him... I've failed in that department once, rushing into something that I had no preparation or planning for, and I won't do that again. Deal with the vampires first. Injure them, kill them, scare them. I don't care... but please, let us just focus on the vampires for now unless I-- we, whoever-- can find someone patient enough to take Liel in under their wing so that... that he doesn't become a potential threat."
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