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His world was as he'd left it. His return to destiny city had been just as grand as his return to his world. Cold, distance, practical. His world hadn't changed much. Mostly frozen, though, it was his world's winter. The sea ice that had once been so thick was thinner now. The monsters having taken a likening to him. His very sparse remote visits usually accompanied with meat.

Cattle, pork- he was oddly pleased that the introduction of earth based corpses didn't seem to hamper their hunger. Now they were his to tend to as Castor put it. 'The beasts of your world were taking care of it long before you, but now you need to care for them'. The monsters were by no means tame. Violent, they heralded his arrival by trashing amongst themselves, going to the cliff by his castle, awaiting his usual drop of flesh.

Back in destiny city, and their first meal to celebrate was that of a human- a dead agent. Pollux watched as they scrambled to it, claws, fins, teeth biting and gashing. The agent had almost gotten away. No one could know he was back. Not yet, not until he and his brother were ready. Cold eyes watched them a short while, their loud cries oddly comforting. Still the chill bit his skin after a time, prompting him to move back into the castle.

Once frozen, it had thawed. Empty, except the lines of bones and remains of what he assumed had once been nobility. It was disturbing to see them so neatly laid out in the courtyard. It was as if they had been ready for death. Though, given what Castor had shared with him, Polluxians did not fear death. He was born for war after all. The War Maker.

His room, for the comfort it drew, was warm. The burning ice illuminating the room and the furs. Thousands of years frozen, yet still soft, still smelling of something he simply knew was his scent. The only touch of a woman the necklace upon a pedestal. A gift. A gift to a woman that had never been delivered. It was untouched and would remain so. Beautiful deep blue violet gems of various size. One as big as his fist. He hated that necklace, loved it. It made him hurt and he didn't understand why. The name was clear enough to him, Andromache. A wife? A lover? His consort? He didn't know. Castor had never been asked. Pollux loathed to ask his brother of the memories of the past, the past that haunted his sibling to the point he'd begun to hallucinate after long exposures. Who no longer found comfort in the world he was born, but a world light years away.

He knew that he was bound to do more than seek the comfort that weapons and furs of a room he no longer lived in. He'd come to see his captives.

The prison his past self had created for reasons unknown.

Trevor looked at his clock. 11:06 am, Tuesday. Marlo was supposed to have arrived at 11.
And Marlo was never late. The man had been his client for the last two years, working on the various mental issues the young rising CEO suffered from. Obsession. Aggression. Repression. Manipulative behavior. Abuse. Sexual desires. Emotional fulfillment. The client wasn't his easiest or his hardest.

Rather, Marlo was simply unique in how the man was so utterly confident in all his actions and made each tiny interaction controlled and intentional. Not unheard of, but when combined with the knowledge that Marlo was aware of his behavior, and had come of his own violation, his own desire to better himself not for his own sake, but for the sake of others? Marlo was interesting.
Yet now Marlo was late, and from the man's message, Trevor could guess as to why.

Marlo's old flame had returned to the city and now all the progress that he'd made was being thrown to the wind. Marlo told Trevor how this woman had the ability to rip down his defenses and his control. How she made him hope and feel and want- yet utterly terrified him because she was not just a woman he loved, but the very core of everything he had for years never thought he could even be worthy of consideration.

The click of the door, the polite hello to his secretary and Trevor smiled as Marlo walked into his office.
"So, I hear you've reconnected with your ex?" Marlo liked it when they began to the point. Direct- Trevor had been forced to learn Marlo's quirks, his reactions. Six months was how long it had taken the man to trust him on the most basic levels. Now, after two years, Marlo had just began to honestly open up with him.
Despite their sessions being weekly.

"Yes. I took her out. We talked."
"No sex?"
Marlo's hand clenched. There hadn't been sex. Good. Sex would have unraveled Marlo's control and put him closer to backtracking on all his progress. "But you wanted to." Nail on the head, Marlo sat down, eyes focused on his hands.
"Why did you want to see her?"
"I miss her."
"Why do you miss her?"
"She makes me happy."
"Why does she make you happy?"
"Because she doesn't care about what I have or don't have. She cares about me." It was a common discussion and line of questioning. Affirmation that Marlo had worth, that he was someone people were interested beyond money, power. And Marlo was certainly growing in power. His ex was just a tool to help bring it to the front.

"Will you invite her out again?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
He paused. Marlo had been ready to answer, yet had realized that his initial answer would have been a poor choice. "The cafe down by the park."
"Where would you invite her if things were better?"
"My place so I could cook for her."
"Why did you change your answer?"
"Because I would want to go back to what we used to do."
"And that was?"
Marlo smiled. "Be intimate."

Trevor frowned. He frowned because there were words that Marlo rarely used.
Love. Hope. Happy. Good. Marlo was sexual. He was confident with women. He was arguably worse at being loyal to his lovers than certain sex addicts Trevor treated.
For him to say he'd been intimate was not sexual. Not completely. Marlo had been in love with Jada. He'd exposed himself to her in a way that was utterly devoid in every relationship the man had had while being Trevor's client.

Marlo trusted Jada and loved her even after they had separated and ended their toxic relationship. Yet She was his first- the first woman he loved. And even years later, he thought about her and wanted her. And obsession that was unhealthy. There was only one saving grace that Marlo have given Trevor. That he'd told his therapist that made it alarming clear just how much the young CEO wanted to better himself.

"And if you couldn't be intimate with her? If she rejects you and never wants a relationship with you?" Marlo had one saving grace.
"I'd want her to be happy, on her own terms."
He loved her, and he was willing to accept that after so long, she might never love him back.

[Reg]Garden of ice. (Benitoite and Pollux)