Offsite RP Log
occurs chronologically Oct 2, 2014
Quoted sections written by Tsunake


Björn had received the summons over his crystal clear while in uniform, but had made it as strict a personal policy as he could safely manage to not approach the apartment unless in civilian guise. He and Ladon had worked too hard in setting it up to risk the safety or comfort of it, the ability to use it for rest and actually living without encroachment from duty for Andrew to do otherwise. A summons was a summons, strange after all this time, wild in the heart for excitement and worry. His Lord was usually capricious, but hadn’t shown much inclination to call on him for good or ill in the last many months.

The door felt a yawning mouth, but he knocked politely before turning a kept key to enter. “Drew?”


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It had taken longer than he’d like to admit to readjust to that name. Andrew Collins… a man, long before he had been an agent of the Negaverse, and much longer than he’d been a general. Trust Björn to be prompt and obedient as ever, eternally loyal despite the indifference and apathy Drew had shown him for so long now. He was sitting on the couch, staring at the television. Not an odd sight, perhaps, but the TV hadn’t been on for hours now. The man in question looked much healthier than he had months ago, having gained back a good portion of the weight that he’d lost. The haunted look in his eye had faded, but it would never truly be gone.

“We’ve got something to talk about.” The words were light enough. He’d never been good with being solemn and serious.



The space from door to the foot of the couch, and Andrew’s socked, was less than a handful of Björn’s long strides. He took knee in getting there, offering a kiss to knee before looking up expectant and still uncertain. “I’m at your leisure. What was on your mind?”

‘we’ve’...he knows I take commands well, and never much called on me as a captain since my promotion. Is this part of that? A bannerman is more often told then invited to discussion. Is it serious? It must be, why else summon.


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Musclebound idiot. He reached out, long and pale fingers tangling themselves in the other’s hair to offer something of a squeeze. “Exactly that. You being at my leisure.”

WIth his mind a little less cloudy, Drew had plenty of time to think. It wasn’t the first time he’d kicked a habit before, but this had been the most painful by far. Certain things had been brought to light… and he’d made a decision.

“I’m leaving, Björn.”



“Leaving ….Destiny City? Did the Sovereigns reassign you? “ He’d neither hidden nor shouted his position amid the ranks as having oathsworn on the General’s sword. On the whole it seemed understood that he was associated. Whether there were any formal notations in the keepings of rank and file among the Information Branches was a mystery the light of day probably would never tell. But no word of reassignment had reached him. “And ….what does that have to do ...with my service? I will follow where you lead, my lord. I swore to it. “


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“No.” He continued to toy with those blond locks, rubbing a long strand between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m abandoning the Sovereigns. The Negaverse. I haven’t given half a s**t about them for a long time now.” Drew offered half a smile, but it failed to reach his eyes. “You’re an idiot, that’s why. No. I order you to break your vow to me.”

Björn would die for him. Before his newfound clarity, he would have relished in that fact. Now… well, he had little interest in seeing the fool die for him all for the sake of some stupid spoken oath. “I want you to live, Björn. You’re a better soldier than I ever was. They might hunt me down for treason, and I’d rather you not get involved in the blood bath that follows.”

His laughter was vaguely reminiscent of the man he used to be.



Loyalty specifically to the Sovereigns hadn’t been his own greatest virtue either, comparatively to other things. They had given him place and power, but it had always been Obsidian’s majesty that he’d admired from the first meeting- the first hopes to mean something and serve the man. The actual words came to his awareness half attended by a thunder of heartbeat that echoed over too much else.

Order me to break it

“I…” He brought up hand to catch and clasp the one of Drew’s at his hair. “I oathed to you, more than ever I did to the Negaverse. How have...Did I displease you? Say the thing and I would change it to remain by you, …”

“I do not fear hunt or death if it is by your side.”


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His grip shifted for a moment, his thumb shifting in its mindless stroking onto Björn’s skin. “You didn’t.” Drew offered a crooked smile, a slight flash of teeth. “You did more than anyone ever did for me.” Everyone else had abandoned him, either in death or cowardice. Björn had stubbornly stayed, even when his own life was in danger. Fool of a boy.

“The Negaverse is a former shell of itself. It’s broken at the core--and it isn’t getting any better.” The redhead shrugged. “I’m tired. It’s time for me to make a new life. You still have a life here.”

He finally dropped his gaze to focus on the young man. “Maybe you’ll fix the Negaverse. Or maybe you’ll leave it, too. But don’t succumb to temptation like I did. Pretend that’s my last order. You know. And the breaking vow thing.”



Björn dropped his own gaze, rested temple to side of pajama material swathed knee. He uses past tense for all of it. It isn’t a choice offered. He isn’t saying what I could do to keep my service. Its just….done. The vow unwanted and handed back like paper. His sword is not broken, he is not dead, but I am released and unwanted.

Graceless as it was, tears came bright to lowered eyes. The first fell and darkened the pajama pantleg that he rested against before he slowly lifted back to avoid others doing the same. They marked cheeks unchecked. “If you do not want it, then it is broken.”

Debatable if he meant the vow, as much as that was the literal following of the conversation.


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Ahh, stupid boy. When was the last time anyone had cried over him? Not even Ursula had, more prone to fits of explosive temper and shouting than any sort of weepiness. He leaned forward, carefully lifting that bearded jaw so Björn would have no choice but to look at him. “You could have left me long ago. Almost anyone else would have. You…” His mouth twisted around the word, forcing it out. “Saved me. Despite myself.”

He leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, murmuring as he did. “So now it’s my turn to save you. To help you save yourself.”



So directed, Björn met the eyes of his lord, Save him? Have I? But in saving, lost just the same. It would be joy if he goes on to a life fulfilled and not ruined in the Rift or chased by war he has no heart for. I should feel happy, shouldn’t I? I should feel something other than my chest hurting and unable to breath. Or want to catch him up and ask him not to go.

I cannot ask that.
He wants to go, and for me not to follow.
I can’t own him. Don’t. If loving means working for all another’s happiness...I have to let him go.

His throat felt thick, strangling voice before it made it to lips, “When will you leave? Today? Tonight? Later and no business of mine?”

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“Soon.” Drew didn’t know when. He continued to stroke at the younger man’s head, almost as though to soothe him. It was still strange, thinking that such strength could be possessed by one who was also so vulnerable. Perhaps it was not as much of a weakness as he’d once assumed. It felt oddly liberating to realize his leaving would be at his own discretion--addiction nor orders from a so called higher up would not be biting at his flank, urging him forward.

“If this hurts now, know that you will grow strong from it in time. What doesn’t kill you…”

Well, it always made you stronger.