Once he’d left the scene, leaving the man behind him, he hurried off to explore the city and see whatever else was going on. He knew there was an epidemic of bunnies causing people problems, he was keeping away from them in his day to day, and was reminded of the bats which had plagued the carnival not all that long ago. Even he knew something was going on, not to mention the botanical gardens incident, the city was having more holiday headaches and he could only hope New Years would be free of problems.
It just seemed like the year was perhaps doomed and all he had left was to hope for a normal New Year’s eve, something he could spend with Aiden and his cousin...or just Aiden. He didn’t have much hope though, just a bit, for a normal New Year’s. This city couldn’t be normal could it?
Shaking his head again, fingers running through his hair, he sighed. “Never boring at least.” He mumbled to himself. It was both a good and a bad thing at this point, sometimes more one than the other of course.
Landing on another roof top he took the time to stop and feel if anyone was nearby, he was in the mood to interact with other people and the manner of interaction didn’t much matter. Maybe that little pet Scholomance would be out...that would be interesting, he was near to the park he’d met him not too long ago. Hmmm...he did wonder if he’d gotten his teeth fixed yet; he couldn’t imagine eating was very easy without ones teeth.
Scholomance since learned that drinking proved a very potent way to banish his miseries. Whether whiskey, rum, or vodka, he cared little for its delivery agent - the end result was what provided him a brief separation from reality. That plus a burgeoning habit he dropped long ago left him coping - barely - with the recent adjustments to his life.
That night, he left the condo with Kavinsky to go about his own business. He knew the young man grew terribly busy with working to make ends meet, and that babysitting Isaiah only proved another bother atop a whole list of bothers. Thus, when he removed himself for a night out as Scholomance, he felt some relief from the pressing anxieties that built up between daily life and powered life. The downside, however, was that Scholomance placed himself in ready availability for impromptu Negaverse visits.
And, as he settled upon the parapet of one of the local banks and put his feet up on one of the gargoyles, Scholomance felt a general approaching.
Oh ******** me. Scholomance drew a cigarette from his near-empty pack and pursed it between his lips. Tweezers plucked a blind amount of tobacco from the end of the stick, and after carefully opening a small baggie, he gripped the bag between his knees while he shoved a few of its tiny rocks into the end of the cigarette. Afterward he lit up, and the scent of vinegar intermixed with tobacco permeated the surrounding environment. I'm not putting this out for your sake, General.
Deciding that what he felt, some knight, was more interesting than watching some civilians meander about though they did seem rather drunk he headed for the aura. It was as he closed in on that he took a glance about and spotted it’s owner. A rather familiar figure and he felt a smile tugging the corners of his lips upward - how nice. At least one who wouldn’t fight him, though really he was up to a fight had he run into someone wanting one, and made his way over.
Rather than closing the distance like a normal person he decided upon a quicker means of arrival - teleporting. It was only two roof tops but teleporting was still faster. The arrival wasn’t that jarring, having grown used to it over the years, and he stood staring with his hands moving to the pockets of his coat. “Not worried about your health?” It seemed the knight was rather relaxed and perhaps not even really on guard - so unsafe. Anyone could have stumbled upon him, and not everyone was so kind or in the know like he was.
Scholomance breathed a sigh when he felt the disjointed connection of the source of iniquity. At once, it was distant, and in the next moment, it lingered upon his own position. He did not raise his gaze from the streets below, where bustle died out to scarceness. "I've done worse," he answered at last. "I don't expect to live long enough for lung cancer to become a problem, if that's what you're implying."
Briefly he considered standing, then decided against it. His leg ached already with the cold, and the general likely knew his distaste for Benitoite's presence. Reaching over, he massaged the aching muscle for some hope of relief. Such hopes were short-lived. "This isn't one of our meeting points, you know. You're not looking to give me more assignments, are you? I'm afraid I'm off duty right now." Finally he looked to the general, the tiredness evident in his features, and studied the shorter man for a time. He found nothing about the general to indicate his immediate dispatch.
If you're here to haunt me with talk of that senshi, don't waste your breath. Refer to the idiom 'beating a dead horse' for further reasoning against it.
"I'm going to guess that you're out here enjoying the weather." The algid temperatures bit through all but the thickest of coats, of which Scholomance was not in possession. He kept on only his knight's uniform, with the empty sleeve rippling gently in the lulling breeze. He hoped, perhaps vainly, that freeing to death would become a rather gentle way to go.
Of course the other would think that’s what he meant. Rolling his eyes he shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean that.” He answered shrugging his shoulders, even if the other wouldn’t see it as he stood behind him. Shifting his weight a bit he came closer, moved to the edge and looked down at what was below. Not impressed he stepped back and turned his gaze to over his shoulder where the other now was.
“No, I was out and happen upon your aura. I didn’t know it was yours so decided to find out who it belonged to.” A simple answer because it was as simple was that. He hadn’t cared if it turned into a talk or a fight, or a blood bath, He almost wouldn’t mind a good fight with an actual person, rather than being beaten upon by a hoard of plants while in civilian form and unable to power up. At least then he was able to damage back and vent a bit, he could use that really.
“You’ve not been resting well?” Half question, half statement, as he looked the other over with clear eyes. A tilt of his head and a bit of a smile. “Oh, I assure you I’m not in the habit of wasting my energy by beating dead things. I’m only remaining here as I feel like it - not to order you about. I’m glad you are able to talk, the rest of you I hope is recovering well also?” Genuine curiosity filled his slate eyes as he knelt down, bringing himself closer to the others seated height. He was short enough on his own so kneeling just made him tiny really.
“My uniform allows me to enjoy the cold - to a point anyway.” The summer however...that was a case in avoiding heat stroke. The summer and his uniform were not meant to go hand in hand - ever. “I would assume yours to be warm, at least when compared to the uniforms other wear - you are lucky in that.”
Scholomance continued to stare down at the business lights of the shops below, left on as a permanent bulwark against theft and abuse and the underside of humanity. The bold ones, did not care, he knew. Ski masks robbed liquor stores as much as the Negaverse robbed others of energy. They each lived in a churning pot of indifference, and Scholomance felt himself fueled by much of the same. So when Benitoite clarified that his question pertained not to lung cancer, Scholomance did not feel as surprised as he expected to be. Perhaps that very same indifference fed the general's questions.
"That's bold of you," he responded to Benitoite's decision to investigate his aura. "It could've been someone with magic potent enough to stop you." His foot bobbed restlessly against the side of the building. He thought of Hyperborea then, of Hvergelmir and Babylon. He knew of no one who claimed to kill a general, however.
The general's next question proved curious enough to pull him from his distant concentration, and he half-turned toward Benitoite with his own genuine interest. "Now why would you be interested in my well-being? I'm no officer of yours." He spoke matter-of-factly, lacking the bitter edge he used earlier. He expected the general to remain indifferent about his health, especially since Benitoite came to him with no further assignments. Callousness and efficiency fed the machine from his experience, and concern about his well-being amounted to neither of these. Conversely, he recalled few people of his own faction who would deign to ask that same question - much less from the White Moon.
"It's hard to sleep when you're used to laying on an arm that's no longer there. Or when your whole life is falling apart all around you and nothing stops it from happening." He took another long drag and the scent of vinegar drew sharper. He relaxed somewhat. "But the rest of me is… Healing well enough, I suppose. The heat-cured dentures are coming in soon. I won't have to use this cheap s**t much longer." He popped out the lower row of false teeth for the general's examination, and a few thick tendrils of spit yearned to connect the denture to his mouth.
After popping them back in, he continued. "I can still feel my arm, too. The one that's not there, I mean. Same with my finger. It's fainter than it used to be, but it's still there." He paused, cleared his throat. When he next spoke, he could not hide all of the quaver in his voice. "Maybe I keep hoping hat if I can keep feeling it for long enough, there's a chance that magic might do something for me. That maybe that's my next task with my wonder - figure out how to regrow body parts." Fat chance, he knew.
“Magic bold enough to stop me?” Raising a brow he found himself laughing softly. “I’m not particularly scared of knights nor senshi. I may be cautious of some but scared or worried about their magic - hardly. I’ve gotten over such things. Magic only lasts a small amount of time anyway.” Waving a hand about in a dismissive gesture. “My weapon on the other hand remains and is a constant in a fight if I wish it to be.” And he could slash and stab at a person till his arm was tired, he wasn’t turned off by the idea of staining himself in splashes of red. Hadn’t he threatened to paint the ground with that tiger senshi’s blood, at least once? The idea was still appealing, he just hadn’t found the little tiger...a shame really - maybe they’d been killed already.
“You are correct, you aren’t. But you are an asset at this point and your health is therefore my concern - to an extent. I also might be able to lay hands on things to...assist if need be.” He said managing a bit of a smile. “You should see how much I care for my own officers.” He’d been caring more and more for them as time went on, as he brought more people into the fold..as be brought in some younger members. One day...one day he’d feel his age and then some - not yet though. He did feel a bit parent like at times...or like the older brother who was no fun to be around.
“Laying on the arm...you slept on your stomach or side with your arm under the pillow?” He questioned while he let himself shift into sitting cross legged on the roof top. His gaze remaining on the other as he sat there, hands settling into his lap. “I can imagine that to be rather...unsettling for sleep. Have you tried anything to assist in sleeping?” Or would such a thing interact poorly with any other medications he might be on? Wrinkling his nose at the smell filling the air he tried to ignore it, focusing on the other. True, this wasn’t an officer but they were being used by another General. This knight had something to offer...and it was best he be in good condition in order to operate to his fullest, thus helping them to his utmost. It was perhaps selfish in a sense but people by nature were just that - selfish.
“That’s good to know.” The sight was...less than pleasing but he nodded his head in understanding, and tried to mask the mild disgust. God...he really hoped he never wound up needing dentures, hell he really hoped he didn’t get old and wrinkled and decrepit to be honest. The very idea had him resisting the urge to shudder, maybe that was another reason he disliked hospital so much and nursing homes even more.
“I think I’ve heard something about it - phantom limbs…” He said slowly, thinking over the words before they passed his lips, trying to remember just what he’d heard, it had been on some tv show a while back. He tended to leave the tv on while he did things around the house, so he caught bits and pieces of various things.
“I doubt it but perhaps technology and medicine can offer a solution. I’d say the Negaverse but I doubt you plan to join us any time soon.” He responded while lifting a hand, running his fingers through his hair. The hair holder he used, he had to tie his hair back after he powered up each time, came out and let the blond hair fall about his face and down to his shoulders. “Have you looked into what medicine could offer? One arm isn’t very efficient…”
Scholomance was unsurprised by the general's self-assuredness. He imagined that the Negaverse endeavored to breed such confidence into its soldiers, especially after the invasion of Negaspace during the summer. Benitoite had a point, though, and he knew it - magic lasted only so long. Much of their magic, as knights, lay tied to their signet rings and their knight weapons. He wondered if the Negaverse knew?
When he finished his cigarette, he stubbed it out on the concrete parapet and let it drop to the awning below. He cared little if it burned through the fabric. When he spoke again, he sounded distant. "Sometimes…" He paused, snorted a ghost of laughter. "Sometimes I think about joining the Negaverse. That old adage… What was it, "if you can't beat them, join them"? But, even as bleak as things get, I still prefer my own life to the life I might otherwise have as a completely blank slate. My memories make up much of who I am, you know? So to give all that away, to become an entirely different person… I don't know. I just imagine that, knowing that there are different memories that I used to have, I could never be happy. Even if I'd stop being hunted. So… I expect the Negaverse would have to try a lot harder to ruin my personal life before I finally sign any kind of long-term deal with them.
"Besides, this way, I know who to blame for my arm and my teeth and my finger." He paused for a time afterward. Tossing a glance at his conversation partner, he considered the general's boyish looks. Indeed, Scholomance thought him quite young - perhaps no older than late teens or even of drinking age - and the thought left a modicum of excitement within him. He wondered what reaction he might yield if he simply leaned over and tried to take the boy. Was it asinine to hope for a favorable one?
"I've got something for sleep," he added, laughing gently. Something, indeed. It works excellently if you don't let it take you. "But it's more like… Oh hell, you're not here to listen to someone like me ramble. Forget it." Scholomance sought to stand, though he groaned slightly when his hip protested the motion.
"Replacement limbs are quite expensive, you know. The useful ones cost as much as a house around here." And I just had to buy one of those, no thanks to one of yours. "It's quite enough to have to pay for dentures. You'd think the Negaverse would chip in and help me out a little if it wants me to stay a loyal operative… Although I suppose that's what separates someone like, say, Schörl, from someone who genuinely cares about their investments." He thought of Blue and the help the other man was desperate to provide.
"... Is there some way that, perhaps, you might be able to take over my case? I'd prefer it if someone with common sense and knowledge of human limits distributed my, ah, assignments."
“Nature vs nurture in a sense. So much of what we are is because of our experiences, and what we see others experience. To lose memories of that...it leaves us as what? If we no longer have those things we are left with what little genetics has left us with. To lose so much of oneself is to become someone else - the old self dies and we become someone else. Some would relish the idea to shed their identity like a snake does it’s skin - to become another person.” Of course some people did, that was the whole point of fake identities and such wasn’t it? But they still kept their memories and who they were, even if they had to act as someone else. It would still have echoes of the real self, surely, but to change sides...that was to wipe it all away.
“That or someone could decide to force the issue and decide for you. Unlike your side which cannot do such...our side can and does. I’m not a fan of it, it can leave a rather bitter taste in a person's mouth and result in a new agent who either does nothing and is a waste of energy...or you get one who turns on us from the inside. You could, of course, get a good agent from it...but it’s no guarantee and I dislike playing the odds.” Though he’d done it himself by turning people against their will, clueless people, but he always worried over it and felt bad for it.
Laughing he turned his eyes away for a moment and smiled. “Yes, you do indeed know who to blame. Though I don’t see you doing anything about it any time soon. I do wonder if you will in the future.” Turning his gaze back onto the other, questioning bright eyes on the other. “I don’t think you will…” Standing up, as he watched the other move to do so, and quickly he was on his feet and moving to help. This was a knight, yes, but they were being employed by the Negaverse. “You should sit...but if you insist on standing let me help.” Rolling his eyes as he stared down at the other. “I’m not so weak that I can’t help.” Not as a General, not even as a civilian though he was much weaker as one he wasn’t as weak as he looked to be. Looks, at least for himself, were deceiving.
“Oh? A house you had to buy...due to us? Do tell.” Raising a brow, wondering about this. He was...curious - very curious. “Insurance I take it won’t cover either...though truth be told I’m rather clueless how that works.” If he was sick he went to a doctor or a hospital. If he needed anything it was handled, he just handed over an insurance card. He was rather...clueless about such.
“I don’t know if I can, but perhaps I can be a buffer of sorts...It wouldn’t be...proper for me to step on other General’s feet - bad air. I’ve been around long enough to know how foul the air can be when people start toe stepping - it’s never good.” The split in members when it came to working with the dark mirror’s senshi was a prime example of someone taking charge of a group and going against the grain - toe stepping. Never good.
"Some people are like that. But some people are cowards, too. I can't see myself thriving in that kind of life. So, if the Negaverse decides to force it on me, then they'll have to accept I'll wind up a shitty agent. Who would want a one-armed general, anyhow?" Scholomance clicked his tongue.
At Benitoite's assistance, Scholomance balanced a hand on his shoulder. It helped, somewhat, to take the weight off. "If I don't move my leg, it gets stiff. If I do, it bitches at me. I have Labyrinthite to thank for that, you know." He refrained from commenting about getting back at Schörl; committing to such remained too obvious a baiting scheme. Unless Benitoite had something against his fellow generals, speaking of it only invited disaster. Blue had a point - he needed to confine his revenge to those directly involved. Not Benitoite, not Xenotime, not even Umber. Involving them to any extent overstepped his boundaries.
"I'd tell you about the house, but that's encroaching a little too much on my civilian identity, you know. Maybe if you sweetened the deal…" He teased. He wondered, then, if his predicament felt so bleak that flirting with the enemy somehow alleviated his spirit. Out among the darkness, missing an arm, relying on a general to keep him upright… How ludicrous. But, that was the drug he wanted in his system at current. His hand slipped to Benitoite's most distant shoulder.
Scholomance breathed a sigh at the lukewarm news. "A buffer is a start. I'm not owned, you know. Nothing compels me to become Scholomance but myself. My continued participation contributes to the Negaverse's gains, and if I stop altogether, you suffer a loss there. I would imagine it becomes prudent to keep me a little happier, yes? Just like you spoke about before."
I must be ******** lonely if I'm thinking about hitting on a Negaverse agent. I should call Sid again. Or talk to K. I'm paying him for a reason.
Just like he couldn’t see himself doing well as a knight, especially if he remember being in the Negaverse. He knew, he was sure, he would be in more fights with his own side were to for some reason jump ship. He was just glad the other side couldn’t force purification, had they the ability he was sure someone would have forced it on him by now...and then they’d all be suffering because of it - which was amusing if he thought about it.
Shifting his own stance, to support the taller male's weight and larger frame, he managed to redistribute the weight and shift his stance. “Ah, that makes sense. Same with most injuries it seems.” Shrugging a bit he glanced up to the others face. He’d learned that lessons after countless injuries, he’d wake up sore or wind up sore by the end of the day after doing very little after an injury. “Best to deal with the bitching than the stiffness. So long as you don’t push it of course.” At least the other was improving health wise, though he could be doing better...progress was still progress and it was good.
At the others comment, especially the last sentence, he raised a brow and while ignoring his warming cheeks he shook his head. “Are you flirting?” It wasn’t the first time someone from the other side had done it, though it had been a very long time, it wasn’t something he would be indulging in however but he might as well confirm it first - it never hurt to ask.
“Indeed, that is true. While your help does help the Negaverse I’m sure we could get along fine without it...but that’s neither here nor there really.” His hand, the one not resting on the others waist to help support him, waving about in a vague gesture of sorts. “We’re rather….global if you will...we have many ways to gain whatever we may desire.” Their new leaders were from out of town, though he was pleased to have them here, he did hope they’d do something soon - something big. They needed to make a dent against the enemy in this city. This city was the last stronghold the other side had and it needed to be broken - they needed to be broken. The white moon needed to be taken apart...bit by bit and member by member. The only ones spares should be those who changed sides or those who helped, at least until they lost their usefulness...and either joined their side or met their end.
“Mmm, I’ll see what I can do. I have some wiggle room but not a lot. It is, as I said, prudent to keep you in good health so you are able to do your best in assisting us.” And in the end either join or die, but that was a ways off perhaps.
"Does that surprise you?" Scholomance countered. "I don't normally flirt much - I prefer to cut to the chase. Lost confidence, I guess. Maybe that's to be expected when one as vain as I am loses an arm." Not that this agent looked terribly far from Scholomance's place of self-preening. "Besides, I expect that you could stop me quite effectively if I overstep my bounds here. Am I wrong?" He teased, and tried to smile.
"If you're as global as you say you are, then what does it matter? What would one knight matter to someone like you?" The disparity between their situations grew bleak enough that he found no reason against it anymore. The facts of his life of late settled within him as an emptiness outside of general warmth. They felt small enough, confined enough now, that he could bite them back for a while. He knew, distantly, that the decisions here measured poorly - and perhaps he would come to regret them in the coming days - but the promise of returning old memories proved the greater sway.
With all their contrast laid out between them, Scholomance could find it no different from some of the relationships he and Sid kept behind closed doors. Perhaps they could turn out the same way - Scholomance assigned no hope to it - and he might maintain a Negaverse contact powerful enough and influential enough to mitigate some of the damage to his life. Perhaps he could cultivate someone in which he could confide with minimal circumstances. Or, perhaps such a move would backfire and he'd lay dead on the parapet within seconds, his starseed in the hands of the enemy. Ultimately, what difference could it make?
So, with his weight still supported in part by the general, he leaned inward to taste foreign skin with a kiss.
“Perhaps a bit of surprise. It’s not often a knight, or a senshi, flirts with a negaverse officer.” He stated while looking the other over. He could understand a loss in confidence, he could say he’d be in the same boat had he been the one with a missing arm, finger and other things. He was a bit vain, or a lot really. It had only been on an emotionally fueled whim that he’d gone and ‘ruined’ his skin by having it inked...and not once but twice. He did like it though, it suited him somehow. Had it not been for his emotions though he never would have done it, never wanted to ruin his perfect self. “Indeed, I am more than capable if you overstep.” Which he hadn’t yet. Flirting was one thing...making a pass...well that he’d put an end to if it happened, he doubted it would though.
“We don’t typically bring in outside help. We like to handle things going on in this city...with what we have here.” So he did matter in a sense. They could call in help, they could get information or anything else they may need. But it seemed the Negaverse didn’t. He did wonder, it wasn’t even an uncommon thought, why didn’t they just call in officers from all over and flood the city with officers and stamp out the white moon for good. He wondered if this wasn’t some game being played and if so...why? This could all easily be ended - right?
Had anyone ever wondered the same as he was now? The same thing he’d wondered a dozen - a hundred times before? Had anyone ever sought the answer to it? Was there even an answer to be had? So caught up in his thoughts, as he was prone to being at times, he didn’t notice what was happening till he felt it and for a moment he froze. Stunned and wide eyed, staring up at the other, before he drew back and shook his head.
He could lash out, easily, he could shout or scream he could even make threats but he did none of those things. His cheeks, damn his fair skin, were dusted a reddish hue but he was holding up a gloved hand. “No, no. I’m afraid I’m off limits. I’m rather involved with someone.” A normal person...a civilian….an innocent, he was hoping to keep him like that. It put a strain on things at times, how could it not? But he was managing because he wanted it to work - needed it to work. It was normal and he cared, he loved him. It was what he needed and who he needed. He just wished he didn’t have such a secret hidden in the closet, under the bed, in dark spaces unnamed and anywhere else that secrets could be kept hidden away.
He should have expected this, Scholomance reminded himself, as he slowly straightened up. "Well," he started to plug the silence, "I'm not sorry I tried."
Carefully he unwound his arm from about the short general's shoulders and sought to sit. Sitting proved more difficult, as his hip protested further weight, but after a couple pops of the joint, he seated himself relatively smoothly. "You start to notice how superficial people are when you get disfigured. The double takes, the lukewarm receptions, the convenient excuses to back out of any kind of engagement. I suppose the joke's on me for thinking better of people." Or perhaps he needed to pick from the bunch with lowered expectations - the divorcees, the widows, those who learned to lose their self-esteem.
"It was kind of you to listen. It's easy to just paint everyone into their respective faction corner - that the Negaverse is bad, the White Moon is good." Blue thought much the same way. In his iteration, he termed the Dark Mirror as morally ambiguous. Scholomance supposed the knights and White Moon became moral, and the Negaverse became amoral. And if morality determined one's best fit, then Scholomance knew he remained in the wrong vein of magical employment. "I like to be reminded that there's still people with opinions outside of these general statements."
But Scholomance's gaze did not fully return to the distant faces of empty houses. "Sounds like you have someone you need to go back to, though. You sure you want to sit around out here with a half-dead knight?"
Biting his bottom lip he shook his head. Seating himself again he reached out and let one of his gloved hands fall onto the others shoulder gently. “Good, don’t be sorry.” Hesitating, thinking over his words, he took his time before speaking again. “We are in a war...we may die tomorrow, next week, a year from now - we don’t know. Why be sorry for anything we do or who we are? If you were sorry I would wonder about you, about your self confidence.” Although he claimed to lack it he wasn’t, not altogether, in his opinion. If he wasn’t apologizing and babbling out all manner of things than he had to have some left - right?
“People all are, even we are, it’s human nature. Some is also nurture but a good amount of it is nature. You’ll find someone who doesn’t care, they are out there.” He wanted to say he didn’t care and to a point he didn’t, it was injuries sustained in a war. He also had his fair share of scars, though nothing like the other had, but he also knew he did still care a lot about his looks...just not as much as he once had. His fifteen or sixteen year old self would be horrified at the ink and scars decorating his fair skin, all covered by his uniform, and would never imagine accepting it all much less being proud of it all. But he did accept it and was proud of it, he’d welcome more scars...at least as much as he could.
“You could say the Negaverse raised me in a sense, at least partially, I’ve learned to listen and help...to work as a unit with others. I’ve had to. I was never the sort of teenager who went running about getting into trouble anyway.” Mature in away his classmates weren’t, scoffing at them and lifting his nose into the air around them. He’d held himself above them. “I would think, if I were to be honest, that all of us in this war are varied shades of grey. Some darker and some lighter...as a whole the factions take on a lighter or darker hue due to where it’s various members seem to mostly fall.” So more of the senshi were lighter grays where the Negaverse was made up of darker shades. “But it means we aren’t black - I can be as kind as I want to someone.” As he was showing now. “Or….as morally corrupt as I wish to be. Perhaps I’m just one of the lighter shades of dark grey, not that it matters. I know what I’m capable of.” He knew what he could do to a person if he wanted to, where his lines were, and he might surprise some people with where they existed and with what he would do. Some things took a strong stomach, in his opinion.
Watching where the other was looking he listened to the other speak and let his fingers trail through his own hair gently. “I don’t mind. I have duties as well and it now seems that making sure you are in good health is one of them.” He would do his best to help, to play buffer, if he could. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, allow an asset to be run down into the ground or die prematurely. “I should go though, if for no other reason than I have work in the morning. If you need anything let me or my Captain know...I will try and help, I won’t see an asset damaged and left unattended to.” Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze he stood slowly.
“You’ll be able to make it to the ground safe?”
I hope Kavinsky's home. Jailbait here's too faithful for me. K knows how to loosen up and have a good time, though. Maybe I'll buy him some vodka. Or is that too stereotypical? He laughed, though, when Benitoite mentioned his self-confidence. "This is the lowest my self-confidence has been in years. I expect everyone else is all the more thankful for it."
Benitoite sounded like he wanted to comfort or encourage the knight, but Scholomance was skeptical of it just the same. He could not place precisely why. He knew that Gwen would seldom mind that he now looked like an invalid, and would care for him just the same. He knew Kavinsky cared little how he looked so long as he was still alive, thus the Russian remained available. Kam would likely grow more interested in kicking the s**t out of Cinnabar and Schörl over making judgments about his appearance. Sana would be civil, but perhaps less enthused.
No, Scholomance expected that his frustration over matters stemmed from the fact that the world grew too good now. People hid all their sordid opinions behind tightly-pursed smiles and scathed at the opportunity of speaking their minds. The world would not give him the satisfaction of being discriminated against, called an invalid in front of a dozen onlookers, because people trained themselves to keep such thoughts indoors. They knew how to hide their hate just well enough that they weren't overtly expressing it, but Scholomance knew that derision still remained. He still waited for it, yet it never came. He faced much of the same problems from his belonging to LGBT groups, his prior addictions, and he heard of it from colored friends. Now he had to face the same microaggressions as an ******** hooray.
Scholomance offered very little comment to the general's dissertation on shades of grey as a reflection of morality. Most of what he said consisted of a rehash, Scholomance figured. It provided one distinct clue about Benitoite's character, however, and proved that Scholomance had more of a chance to find more comfortable assignments beneath him - and a better life rhythm. If Benitoite acted as the buffer, and if he proved as 'light grey' as he said, then Scholomance may be able to repair the rift between himself and Vargas, and reroute some of the problems in his business.
"Thank you, General. I'll keep an eye out for your captain." He nodded to the other man as Benitoite prepared to leave. "And I'll be fine to get myself down. I have a way of dealing with tricky landings, but I'll be out for a while yet." Zalmoxis provided at least that much relief with its existence. "Good night to you."
sleet tempest snape
