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 Posted: Sat May 31, 2014 12:37 am
What was supposed to be a Midsummer's sojourn back home turns into quite the experience for Noah, whose delay displeases Frank greatly.
Where in the world could he be? Back at the inn for a chewing out, eventually, and some startling revelations are made from both sides... There had been a conspicuous sort of quiet at the Fox & Hounds Inn the past few days. Business had continued as usual and uninterrupted: deals being dealt, schemes being hatched, information traded and rumors discussed with only a little less than the usual drunken shenanigans involved. For better or for worse, Noah's absence had been known. No one had noticed that absence more than his older brother Frank, who had given him the weekend to waste and that was it.
So, while productivity for the unproductive of society was up and rabble-rousing not so much, still there existed faint rumblings of unease as Monday passed without a glimpse of that fop's stupid mug, rumblings that threatened to turn into something loud, louder than those ridiculous shirts, and mad, madder than Noah had to be to pull a stunt like this.
The horses in the stables might have been wary of Frank dropping by when normally he avoided the place, the patrons amused to find Erasmus flitting among them croaking insults about the younger in the elder's voice, and the servants surprised when they had been instructed to fetch their boss immediately should his brother finally show up—and he damn well better, one might recount him muttering darkly before storming off, as ugly and unforgiving as the storm mucking everything up outside.
Eventually, the alarm was sounded in a certain servant dutifully slinking away to act traitor to one and loyalist to the other. Frank hadn't appreciated the hour, but he had appreciated the chance to tear into Noah as soon as possible, prepared to jump on any excuse, any lie he might have babbled in order to cover his a**. That the younger Varick was back meant that he was alive, not that Frank was really ever very worried at all no, and he could only assume his absence was therefore the result of over-indulgence during the useless celebration.
What he wasn't prepared for was the real reason for Noah's delay. Of course the interrogation, carried out in his office as he had practically dragged Noah into, had been merciless—but the reveal of the totem stopped that. For a brief moment as recognition dawned, a flash of surprise showed plain on Frank's face, only to be quickly buried under his usual surly expression. Actually, he managed to look even more severe then, the clutter on his desk pushed aside as he leaned over with heavy palms flat, staring Noah down with the same expression opponents in the ring might have seen before they were knocked flat.
On his shoulder, Erasmus, a little groggy from being woken up, gave a soft wheeze that might have held a whisper of a hello but no more warmer of a welcome, not when Noah had obviously displeased the elder Varick. But he seemed to nod along, or maybe he was only nodding off, when Frank finally growled low: "You shouldn't have gone."
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2014 8:13 pm
Frank's stony gaze might have inspired abject fear in just about anyone else who knew the man, but not Noah. Not visibly anyway, as he sat in the large plush chair in front Frank's desk, returning his brother's stare with a tired scowl of his own. He hadn't even had the chance to change out of his soaked clothes before being hauled off to be questioned, so he instead pulled the blanket around his shoulders more tightly about his small frame, to ward off the chill. The traitorous little servant who had woke Frank up in the first place had at least had the decency to fetch him something to keep warm.
"Oh, yes, of course!" The younger Varick spat in a wavering, raised voice, as Frank finally spoke. "Just because you don't care enough to go back and visit doesn't mean I have to stay here with you." He argued sharply, hand clutched tight around the totem in his palm. He held it close again after revealing it to his older brother, and now it was hidden from view as Noah readied himself to defend his case. "It wouldn't have changed anything." He tacked on with a pout, shifting irritably in his chair, trying to calm his pounding heart.
As badly as he wanted to combat Frank's nastiness, the truth of the matter was that Noah was badly shook up. Adrenaline still won out, but his body was wracked with exhaustion both mental and physical, and he still could not decide if the things he had seen were real or not. He swallowed the knot in his throat and looked away from his brother. "I am awake, aren't I?" He wondered breathlessly, and pinched at his wrist, the anger draining from his face, quickly replaced by a manic look.
"I could just as easily say that you should have come with me." He snapped suddenly, as if it were some sort of snappy comeback that he'd thought of a bit too late. There was nothing witty or amusing about it though. Instead of the proud, well-groomed jockey sat a disshevelled and jumpy looking little brother, who only wished to make sense of what had happened. How could this have happened? Why him? He swallowed again, and dropped the totem into his lap to rub his face and wipe the damp hair from his forehead. Weren't they supposed to be fairytales, stories told to children at bedtime? A shiver ran through him, and he curled in on himself, looking up at his brother forlornly.
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Posted: Sun Jun 01, 2014 1:36 am
And anyone else might have been moved by the sight of the pitiful young man, cold and betrayed and clearly near a panic—but it took a good bit of effort from Frank not to return Noah's jab about visiting with a jab of his own, and he spoke with his fists, none of these emotional theatrics. Settling instead for a dismissive snort, because he definitely didn't owe that fop any explanation, the older Varick was already only half paying attention as he began rationalizing things to himself. In direct contrast to his brother's hellish appearance, with all the careless nonchalance that he usually displayed, Frank sat back heavily in his own chair as he propped his feet up onto his desk, his familiar fluttering down to pick about the mess.
Of course he remembered the very same fairy tales. This couldn't be real—because these sort of things just didn't happen, and they sure as hell didn't happen to people like Noah, who he watched with a patronizing sort of pity. If it turned out his brother was only pulling some sort of stupid prank, with a totem that looked too entirely legitimate, he was definitely getting a beating. The part of Frank that was still worried, though he would not acknowledge it, preferred that idea. "You're a big boy now, Noah. You don't need me holding your hand to go into the big, scary forest." If that's where he'd really gone.
But there was an even bigger reason for Frank's skepticism, and as he glanced at Erasmus pecking at a half-eaten biscuit hidden under an over-turned book (the pages, he was sure, stained with coffee), he wondered if it was worth comforting the poor kid any. Stroking his beard like a sage old man, he spoke just as sure of himself and just as infuriatingly enigmatic. "I would have seen this coming," he reasoned, as though trying to convince himself also. "If it were really so important, I would have seen it." Soon enough to have stopped it, that's how it was supposed to happen, and suddenly an undercurrent of anger colored his voice again. "You're not a Warden, so quit with the looks, Noah. You're nothing special." As if Frank's word would be enough to erase the totem he suddenly wouldn't look at from existence.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 11:33 am
Noah stared as his brother spoke, and had to swallow the rising lump in his throat. Frank's words had a greater impact than his fists ever would, and it took them a moment to register in his mind. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. In an instant, Noah shoved himself to his feet, an enraged sneer replacing exhausted sorrow. "How dare you!! I never claimed to be special!" He spat the last word, voice lifting into an indignant yell. The totem fell from his lap and clattered dully to the floor, its owner not seeming to notice or care.
"And what the bloody hell do you mean, you'd have seen it? Who could ever have known!? If I'm not a Warden what the hell is this!?" He snarled, and kicked the totem so that it bounced across the floor towards Erasmus. He was panting hard by then, and jerked his eyes back toward Frank, narrowing them spitefully. Perhaps his usual showboating warranted this kind of reaction, but if being a Warden meant enduring what he had just been forced to go through, then to hell with that. He hadn't asked for it, but he didn't know how to prove the fact. Frank's mysterious pondering only worked further to rile him up, and after a moment something in him seemed to snap.
"This must be a dream. I must be dreaming." He threw his arms up in exasperation, shoving himself away from the desk and beginning to pace behind the chair. The blanket fell to the floor, and he hardly noticed the damp clothes clinging to his clammy skin, or the tremorous chills running down his spine. "I'm back at mother's, this is only a silly, drunken dream." He flung out his arms, and let them fall against the sides of his legs with a wet slap. Noah let out a laugh tinged with delirium, but it quickly trailed off as his eyes fell upon the totem. It lay on the floor, some feet away from where he had sent it flying, the swirled markings on its surface continuing to glow ominously. It had to be a dream. "You should hit me. I know you want to. Hit me so I'll wake from this nonsense."
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2014 9:05 pm
There it was, the reaction Frank had been expecting with familiar disdain, and goading on anyway. He did not so much as bat an eyelash at the sudden outburst from his brother and remained lounging in his seat, still looking perfectly at ease—though the dark look he gave Noah was anything but, sharp as hawk's (or a rook, as it were), tensing imperceptibly. Erasmus himself did react, dropping his scavenging with a hop and a startled ruffling of feathers, and Frank finally did sit up as his familiar began yelling back in a voice half-bird, half-man, all incomprehensible.
"That's enough. C'mere, Era," he chided, not particularly caring that his familiar did not immediately obey, more focused on his brother's tantrum. Look at him, pulling that 'just a dream' bullshit Frank could remember wishing once, too. Suddenly, bringing up his own situation didn't seem like such a good idea. What had he been expecting? To build some rapport? Show they were both afflicted by some fantastical curses? Was it pity, or did he just want to show the special little boy up? Frank could just hear himself saying it, 'You think you got problems?', but instead he found himself heaving a great sigh and standing up with far more dignity than the younger Varick had.
Leisurely rounding the desk, he was completely sympathetic: "You would wish you were with mummy dearest, wouldn't you, No-No?" He picked up the blanket and folded it with a benign patience they both knew he didn't actually have, placing it on the abandoned and soggy seat with a scowl. At least he was pleased to see Erasmus had calmed, feathers flattened as he cocked his head to curiously eye the totem, but their matching glows reminded the elder just what they were dealing with. He approached slowly, still speaking in that measured cool—"I should hit you, but it sure as hell wouldn't wake you, boy,"—then suddenly, he seemed to take that suggestion to heart, throwing a vicious right hook at his brother... that was, in classic Fox style, only a feint.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2014 10:42 pm
Noah's eyes weren't even on Frank any longer, so his glaring didn't quite elicit the desired effect. The younger Varick stood in place for a moment, one hand cupped to the side of his face while the other supported his elbow. He looked frantically lost in thought, his breathing quick, his heart fluttering in his chest. He was too tired for all this. He hadn't caught a wink of sleep in nearly two days, and Frank's flippant attitude wasn't helping his fragile state of mind.
He finally looked to Frank again as he rose from his desk, and became increasingly nervous as his brother made his approach, realizing exactly what he had suggested, before - oh. He just had to use the old nickname, didn't he? Noah's face and ears burned in humiliation, and he lifted his hands disarmingly as Frank drew near, too close for comfort. If he weren't so tired he might have launched into further hysterics, but his older brother's taunting only served to send him hurtling into despair once again.
"Better than staying here and - FRANK!!!" Noah nearly shrieked as Frank threw the punch, only to realize too late that he had been completely faked out. Such trickery never failed to make him flinch. He reacted in reflex by shoving at the larger man for his trouble, heaving an exhaled growl that was steeped in frustration. Noah couldn't fathom why Frank was toying with him, why he had to act even more rotten than usual. Immediately, he regretted making contact, and shrunk away. Now Frank had a real reason to rough him up, and he hugged himself tightly, wishing he could retreat from the whole horrible situation. A nice bath and a warm bed sounded awfully nice.
"I didn't want this to happen, you know. I didn't mean for the delay. Do you really think I'd go into that horrid forest by choice!?" He babbled, hoping to ease the argument back into a verbal one, rather than a physical one. All the fight had left him, it seemed, and he stood there, beginning to shiver again as he peered up at his brother through tired brown eyes.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2014 11:45 pm
Tormenting Noah had always been one of Frank's favorite pastimes, and making him flinch especially never got old. A smug smirk crossed his face, and he almost could have been merciful in his amusement—but the sentiment hardly lasted as his brother retaliated. Sure, with having been a heavyweight contender, and Noah being, well, he probably wouldn't have even made lightweight, jockey that he was, the shove was more of a mere annoyance to Frank. But, like a horse's tail flicking at a bothersome fly (and that simile was just for you, ponyboy), he was only acting on reflex also when he abruptly grabbed his brother by the front of his soaked and ruined shirt, pulling him up and shaking him roughly enough to rattle some sense into him, or at least rattle some bones.
"Listen to me." All traces of malicious amusement had left that craggy rock face, leaving only a cold smolder of restrained fury—yes, he was trying to subdue his sudden impatience with it all. "You ******** up. Don't try to dress it up as a delay. You wasted my time then, and you're wasting it now. You shouldn't have gone," he was keen to repeat, then paused as he heard Erasmus behind him, now batting the totem around with a carefree clatter and the fluttering of wings. The rook was, of course, used to Frank's aggression and paid the brothers no mind, but all the same, reminded there was a child present, the elder tried to tone it down, letting Noah go but ever-looming with cruel hands clenching at the ready.
"You had no choice? Sure. That's how it goes. Congratulations, you've been chosen. But this changes nothing. I hope you don't hold any illusions—you are still nothing, dear brother, because it won't make a difference what you do. If you do anything." That last part might have seemed like a challenge, if not for Frank refusing to meet his gaze, head turned with a sneer of disgust that was, perhaps, not entirely directed at the other man now. He was wasting so many words on his brother and he knew it, but it was the angriest he'd been in a long time—angry enough to talk instead of beat down, and there was a simple reason for that: Noah was scaring him.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 12:42 am
Noah had been bracing himself for such a response, but that didn't keep him from voicing his fear. He whimpered as Frank snatched him up, a ragdoll in his brutish brother's grasp, helpless against his strength, which was much greater than his own. His hands came up to grasp at Frank's wrists in desperation, but there was no real effort involved in the struggle; he was simply too tired for that, and decided that it would be best to ride it out without trying to fight back any further. Hell, he probably deserved it, he realized, as a little bit of sense (or wakefulness, perhaps) was indeed shook back into his mind.
The younger Varick swallowed hard as Frank demanded his attention, giving it in full as his tired brown eyes shifted upwards once more. His pitiful demeanor, and the look on his face, were wholly uncharacteristic, and they both seemed to realize it. Only a horrible experience like the one he had just been through, and the way Frank was treating him, could pull Noah down from his usual perch atop his prideful high horse. He was past anger now, and confusion reigned. His voice was soft as he finally spoke up. "I go every year. You said I could go. It isn't as if the stable hands run amok when I'm gone. That's why I have assistants, Frank." He was babbling again, when another realization dawned on him. It all felt awfully familiar, didn't it? Waylaid by a storm without any way at all of letting anyone know where he was. Of course his brother would be angry. How else would he react?
He was weak on his feet by the time Frank set him down, and wobbled before regaining his balance, drooping slightly as Frank denounced the grand new status he seemed to think his little brother had gained. "I almost died, Frank. Did you really think spending a ******** night in the rain just to end up with...that, was going to swell my ego!?" For a moment, Noah regained a spark of his old self. A ghost of a grin crossed his tired face. "You almost sound jealous." The words were murmured, but when he heard the clattering of trinket against the floor, caused by Frank's troublesome bird, he quieted again, and the mirth left his voice. "What does it even mean? Could all those old stories really be true? What do I do now?" Noah shifted nervously. Thoughts of horrid beasts filled his mind, stories of wolves and bloody battles, and menacing spirits. It couldn't possibly be, but then the memory of the tree flashed through his mind, and he hugged himself again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 2:30 am
It was much easier to forget what a child, an absolute child Noah was when he was his usual swaggering, self-destructive, well, self. But this Noah now was all wrong, all small and desperate for guidance Frank could not give. He felt bad for having been so rough—then immediately felt the need to be rougher for that little quip, barking out in equal parts surprise and offense, "Jealous?!" It struck a chord all right, a rather discordant one, as he raised a hand to strike his younger brother then stopped himself just as quickly, exhaling harshly and turning away. A child, he was only a child.
Trying to calm himself, all the better to contemplate the situation, the older Varick watched his familiar playing with the totem. Or at least, he'd assumed Erasmus was playing with it, but now that he was actually paying attention he could hear the rook uttering a throaty ech as he batted it around. Ha. So even Erasmus didn't like it. Animals always knew more than people, and familiars especially. They could all agree it was only bad news, then. Ignoring the barrage of questions for the moment, striding away from his brother as casually as if he hadn't just been seconds away from throttling him, Frank stooped to observe the bird's antics more closely, giving Noah a brief respite from his wrath.
Erasmus, pleased to have attention back on him, quickly dropped the totem and hopped over to the man, croaking and babbling meaningless phrases he had picked up from all his time at the inn. One hand sleeking down the bird's glossy feathers, the other reaching for the abandoned figure, Frank recalled the stories also. A Warden again, after all these years, could mean only one thing. He did not feel any great stab of fear like most folks might have, like his brother undoubtedly had when the realization had struck him, but only dull disdain. And this, this little bauble he turned over in his hand, would become a Guardian?
"This looks like a horse that bit me once," Frank said simply as he stood again, like he was only trying to lighten the mood. Below, his familiar hopped onto his boot to peck at the loose laces—he'd pulled them on without thinking, really, when he'd heard his brother was back, though he was without his usual jacket—and he walked slowly, awkwardly, to keep the bird from tumbling off, back over to Noah. "I'll tell you what to do," he took one last look at the totem, then thrust it at the doomed man to take it, giving him a stern look even as he was aware of the impossibility of his words. "Forget about it. Go back to how things were before this happened. Nothing's really changed." Not yet, he could have added, but Noah didn't need to think about that right now.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 2:31 am
Noah flinched once again, as his brother raised a hand to him. He held his arms up in order to defend himself, fully expecting to receive a smack for his sass, but was surprised when Frank instead turned and walked away. He said nothing, allowing the silence to seep into the room, and taking the opportunity to calm himself down as well. Despite the calming effect, it didn't stop the questions from churning around in his brain. Noah he held his tongue, knowing that it was useless to grill Frank, assuming that they both had a similar amount (that was, very little) knowledge on the subject. All Noah had to go on were vague stories, filled with glamour and heroism, and knightly men and women who had fended off their ancient land with the help of their mystical cervine companions. Though he remembered mention of the tree, that was only supposed to be a story as well.
He watched quietly as Frank interacted with his bird, slinking over to retrieve the blanket again. The feeling his soaked clothing on his skin was beginning to become unbearable, and he sniffled, wiping his nose on a ruined sleeve. If he was forced to suffer in his current state much longer, he thought, he was sure he would catch pneumonia, and then his choosing wouldn't matter one way or another. Perhaps it would be better than being torn apart by wolves, but as he began to consider his options, Frank spoke up again with a comment that should have made him grin wryly. He watched his brother amble over, his brows raising hopefully, attentively, eager to hear what his wise older sibling had to say.
"Forget about it??" Noah fumbled for a moment before clutching the tiny figure to his chest, his surprised expression slowly melting into one of understanding. "I wasn't counting on anything changing, you know. Business will go on, as usual." He sounded sincere in that, wondering if it was another facet of Frank's anger and upset. The brute always had to jump to those conclusions, didn't he, when profits were threatened? Noah didn't have the slightest inclination to leave the management of their breeding stock to the old fool. "I just can't help but wonder...well, what happens next? The creatures in the stories always sounded so...big." He studied the little totem for a moment. The old tales had never really focused on exactly where the guardians had come from, only that they were a gift from the Spirits, and incredibly adept at combating wolves.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 2:34 am
It was a relief to hear Noah so readily agreeing, for once, and he almost felt like expressing his gratitude, before swiftly dismissing the ridiculous notion. At the end of the day, it was his younger brother who owed him. He said nothing to that, but Frank seemed to relax a bit, scratching at his beard and turning his attention back onto Erasmus perched on his boot. A part of him was curious to know what the Guardians must have been like, if they were anything like familiars—and, in spite of himself, the older brother felt a stab of possessiveness. Jealousy had been close, but now, thinking of it, watching his rambunctious bird-son already muttering snippets of their heated conversation (so he'd been listening after all), Frank dreaded the possibility-inevitability of a... a deer, a stag-stallion (stagllion?!) upheaving the established order of things. The established order where Frank had something Noah didn't. This petty, private reason to dread the whole Warden business would just have to remain forever unspoken, and anyway, true enough; there were bigger things to worry about.
"You should be used to big animals." Maybe it was meant to be reassuring, maybe mocking, but the older Varick's voice did not strongly swing towards either, back to the usual flat, almost bored tone that meant at least he wasn't actively considering assault. He straightened, looking his brother up and down, as though finally, idly noticing just how bad shape he was in. Frank did not want to be merciful or kind, as that was not his manner. Business still felt unfinished. He was still frustrated and disgusted and imploring of his brother, but concern won out over all. As much as he hated to say it, because the witch wanted to know, to see everything, what else could he say? "We'll see how big. We'll just have to wait and see what happens next."
But things would still proceed as usual, like nothing happened, no matter what. Frank's countenance darkened again, as he again considered telling his brother about his apparent hedge craft come to light—but how could he be sure? Why had he seen nothing of this, when he was so convinced he would know things now? The idea that he could have foreseen the Choosing, could have stopped Noah from going and ruining things, had embedded itself in Frank, to grow and fester as he would come away from the conversation knowing his supposed abilities had proven inadequate, and that Noah had gained something that would probably prove far more practical, far more respectable. Of course.
But his voice remained steady, cool. Not unkind. "Take care of yourself, Noah. Before you get sick. Forget about it for now." And Frank took a step, but either he remembered his rook there on his foot, wobbling, or the gesture seemed too awkward after all, because he decided against an embrace and only patted his brother on the shoulder instead.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 2:40 am
Noah's brow furrowed as he looked down at the little totem in his hands, exhaling slowly. "Yes, but it's not very big right now." He commented, a bit perplexed. It had him wracking his brain, trying to remember exactly how the Guardians from the stories came about. For some reason he'd always assumed that they had come fully formed, spiritual beasts that apparated from the very mists of the forest itself. Legends, he supposed, did not lend themselves greatly to details. Or perhaps it was that he'd never payed attention to them. Why bother with trinkets when there were majestic beasts and battles to narrow one's focus on?
The younger Varick's expression lightened slightly at the pat, relieved that his reassurance seemed to have settled Frank's fiery temper. "Yes. I think I will." He murmured, biting back a yawn and turning sluggishly to the door. If he were feeling more like his usual sass-mouthed self, he might have commented on how that should have been the first priority upon his return, but he didn't really want to rile his brother up any more than necessary. His feet were dragging as he moved, and as he reached the door, he stopped in the threshold. There were still questions left unanswered. Little details that he knew would bother him later. "We should talk again in the morning. Afternoon, maybe. Whichever works better. Goodnight, Frank."
With that, he slunk out of his brother's office and down the way to his own quarters, not waiting for (or needing) an answer to his suggestion. Noah's curiosity on the matter wouldn't be so easily forgotten; he knew he could always find Frank in his office and he would hunt him down later, if that was what it took. A soft set of footsteps in the outer hall made the jockey's eyes narrow slightly. If a certain someone hadn't woken Frank up, like he'd asked, he was sure he would be snuggled down in a warm bed now, instead of arguing in his wet, ruined clothes. He knew their conversation couldn't have lasted for more than an hour, but with the state he was in it had felt like an eternity. With a sigh, he slipped into his room. None of it mattered now...he would finally get a blessed night of sleep.
~~~~
It was late afternoon the next day by the time Noah roused again. Thankfully, everyone had seen fit to let him be, and he took full advantage of it, recovering from the bad night in the storm. A deep, dreamless sleep had taken him until noon, and he had lazed about past then, drifting in and out of slumber. The little clock on his wall showed three-thirty when he finally emerged, casually dressed in a white shirt and smart black trousers. Despite his rest, his mind was inundated with a lingering weariness, but even that was not enough to halt his meandering path to his brother's office. He rapped his knuckles against the door several times before opening it to see if his brother was even around. "Frank? Are you in here?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 12:36 am
Oh, good; how very good that someone had gotten a nice bit of sleep in. Noah's departure had left Frank alone with his thoughts, most of them about the very totem he had been urging his brother to forget about. With Erasmus wide awake and still repeating bits and pieces of the heated discussion that had just taken place (and, no surprise, he seemed to favor Noah's reaction to the fake-out), sleep was definitely out of the question. Frank had decided it was about time to hit the books, consulting the hefty shelves in his office that, judging by the amount of dust accumulated, had been mostly for show.
To hell with the poetry and philosophy, useless to him now, and while The Infamy of Fortune was an old favorite, he could not be distracted. Intending to read up on what little he had of legends and spirits—most of them more like bedtime stories his familiar wanted to hear as he settled down on his shoulder—Frank stayed up long into the night, trying to be a good, knowledgeable witch for the conversation to come. Even after Erasmus, so much like a child, had been lulled to sleep by Frank's skeptical murmuring, he continued flipping through his collection. Maybe he felt partially responsible, or that he should already know all of this, more than once wondering if he should finally pay their mother a visit after all, but those thoughts were only barely acknowledged. Noah had become a Warden, whatever that all entailed, and it was a hell of a thing to grapple with. That he'd never seen it coming was just salt in the wound.
The next day found Frank rather sour indeed, as he carried still more books down from his room to his office, the very office he caught his brother, finally up, peeking into. "I'm here," he barked, tramping up behind Noah, looking much less refreshed. "Good of you to join the rest of us here in the waking world. Now get in. I know what you want." He didn't really give the smaller man much of choice, shoving him into the office reeking more than usual of tobacco and coffee while simultaneously handing Noah one of the books, jumping straight into business like always. "You should start with this. I think it'll really help you." It was copy of The Fair Summer—illustrated, naturally—and there wasn't a trace of mischief on his oh-so-stern face.
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:56 am
Noah was completely unaware of the fact that Frank had not slept a wink, and nearly hit the ceiling as the bark of his brother's voice came from behind him, rather than from within the office. "Oh, do you?" He stepped quickly as he was all but bustled into Frank's office, nearly stumbling with the sudden forward motion. He couldn't bring himself to complain, though, as he saw all the books strewn about, and it dawned on him that Frank had actually begun to do research. Research on his behalf, no less, a gesture that initiated a swell of gratitude in the young jockey's chest. Frank sure knew how to put on a show of not caring, but Noah knew he could always count on him, in the end. He took the book as it was handed to him, and began to thank Frank for his thoughtfulness, only to turn red as he caught sight of the title, huffing and quickly setting it aside.
"Very funny, but I don't that will be very useful. For now, anyway." He added, smirking playfully, a stark contrast to Frank's tired scowl-face. The smile faded as he drew closer toward Frank's desk, to take a look at the other books he'd set out, still in disbelief that the man had gone through the trouble.
"Did you sleep at all last night? You didn't need to do this, you know." Noah commented, and sunk into the chair in front of his brother's desk. The warmth of the room and the cozily familiar smell of cigar smoke made him feel exceedingly drowsy, but even through the fog, he remembered the argument that had occurred hours before. Even Frank wasn't going to take his own advice, he supposed, and was secretly glad for it. It would be far better to prepare for the worst, than to forget about the problem and have it come back to bite them. "I really appreciate this...but we need to talk again." He stated the obvious, still confused over some of the more mysterious comments Frank had let slip the night before. He couldn't tell if it had been his exhaustion, or Frank being an idiot, but he was going to get to the bottom of it one way or another.
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Posted: Tue Aug 19, 2014 12:44 am
Internally, Frank might have laughed at his brother's reaction to the bawdy book, but tired as he was, he was still composed enough to only let slip a snort instead. Beginning to make some comment about how such fine literature would be wasted on him anyway, his low and scornful words were lost to the noisy flutter and burbling of Erasmus, descending from the rafters to greet Noah cheerfully. The rook had been keen to show off how he'd mastered the jockey's shriek from earlier, but as he alighted on Frank's shoulder, throat feathers ruffling out in that familiar way, he was muzzled by thick fingers grabbing his beak.
"Not now, Era. Daddy's tired."
It was admission enough to Noah's question, when Frank was usually so patient with his bird-son, and he shot the younger Varick a scowl. Did he have to acknowledge the fact that he was actually helping so openly? Speaking over the wild flapping and scrabbling of Erasmus trying to yank his head away, Frank made up some bullshit comment. "Can't a man take a night to enjoy some books?"
He finally let the poor rook go, partly sorry for having scolded the bird, partly amused at how his boy swore at him in his voice before flitting over to sulk at a corner of the desk. Erasmus was hurt, but not so hurt that it overrode his curiosity over what the two brothers were up to, flicking a golden glance over to Noah and skillfully ignoring the slam of more books thrown down onto the desk pile.
Frank sure as hell hadn't actually enjoyed any of them. Any accounts he'd found of the Guardians and their Wardens were vague to conflicting to plain ridiculous, and what help would these old stories do, anyway? He lingered for a moment at the side of the desk, eyeing Noah as though looking for some way his brother might have changed, but realizing what a stupid thought that was, Frank finally settled in his spot as well. Yes, they sure did need to talk, but for once the man did not commandeer the discussion. Maybe it was fatigue that made him more amenable, as he asked in a sardonic tone, "Where do we begin?"
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