hadriel | >> video.

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[ He has no idea what the fuck is going on, but he knows he's never felt like this before. He's reflected on the things he regrets, of course, and he's been haunted by the choices he made in certain situations, but he carries on with the business of living well enough. He takes what he can get, what joy he can find, and he focuses on that.

So, what the fuck. ]

Anyone else feeling pretty shitty almost non-stop?

[ He has no shame in talking to people, why the hell not? He has nothing to hide in expressing his emotions, though that doesn't at all mean he's ready or willing to just confess all his sins to whoever the hell is listening right now. He's got some measure of control still. ]

I was a fucking asshole once. I get it. I know it.

But whatever this feeling is now - shit. It's this place, right? It's gotta be.

[ And he has this desperate, almost suffocating need to fix the terrible things he's done, but he can't. He's just paralyzed by this overwhelming feeling of being an irredeemable asshole. ]

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[ Ah well, he likes a good challenge. ]

You really wanna hear my fucking sob story? Shit. Well. One war ended for me and a whole other kind of war took its place. You know much about contract killing? Like a mercenary?

[One person's sob story is another's delightful tale of misery and death. She does her best to mask her excitement though, hearing his tone, and while she's at it she'll also pretend she's never ever sold her services to another to kill. Nope. Never done that.]

I've heard about that, yeah. I mean, mercenaries do all sorts of things for pay, right? Killing must make the best money though. It sounds so risky.

All kinds of things. Killing's the worst of it. Don't give a fuck how much I get paid if it's a job I don't believe in. The people I killed were fucking evil. The way I figured it, I was keeping people safe, like in the military. In a different way, but - same concept, and the money was just a perk.

Then I got blindsided: planted a bomb in a guy's car, didn't know he was bringing his kid to school that morning. Didn't even know he had a kid. My intel was fucked. [ He has to pause and take a breath. He doesn't get the impression she sees the full horror in this, but it's a story he has to tell regardless. It's his guilty conscience. ] No one but me cared. Just ended up being a fucking game to everyone else. Not to me. An innocent kid gets killed? That's fucking horrible.

[She nods, slowly. Understands the gravity of what he says, even if she feels no empathy for what he went through. Children die all the time. Their age doesn't make their deaths more meaningful. She frowns, too, looking upset. She knows how to act convincingly.]

That's awful. Your - intel, you mean your orders? Fucked is one way to put that, they sound completely malicious. They must have had a reason though, right? Thought it was worth it, to take out someone who was a threat to even more people?

[Caedra doesn't even know yet why she's bothering to play along. Boredom, maybe. She'll see where this goes, if it keeps her interest or not.]

[ For Damien, it's a totally different story. He cares about any innocent person, but kids are especially his soft spot. ]

The guy - yeah. He was evil, pure and simple. But his kid didn't deserve any part of that. That was the last job I ever did for them, the CIA. Fuck them.

[She nods. Mimics looking solemn, understanding. Tries to recall, amongst all this conversation, what a car is because when he said it a few moments ago was not the first time she's heard the word here. Maybe she'll ask later, if it comes up again.]

You did the right thing, leaving them. I know of people who are determined to follow orders, to pass off blame onto others, but that way is cowardly. Too many people are too afraid to stand up for themselves.

[And all of that is earnest, and sounds it. Individualism is an admirable trait.]

So what then? Did you find someone else who would appreciate your talents? Because you do sound remarkably skilled.

[ Well, right now, she's saying all the right things, and it helps to have someone to listen. It doesn't hurt to hear the compliment about being remarkably skilled, either. ]

Went solo for a while, traveled around. Got recruited to help uh, with counter-terrorism. You know much about that?

[ He pauses and then shrugs a little. ]

Basics are just: chasing bad guys around again, just on a smaller scale. It's me and my partner, basically. Us against the world. Keeping people safe, blowing shit up in the process.

[ He honestly likes that part, he's a bit of an adrenaline junkie. ]

[She almost responds to his question, but the blank look on her face must have said enough given that he goes about trying to explain. Anyway, she certainly knows what terror is so it's not hard to guess at the meaning, if not the specifics.

And his explanation, well - she can see how it makes him light up a little, through his sorrow, and she smiles back. Especially at 'blowing shit up', where that smile becomes broader.]

Exciting. I've done a fair amount of that myself. It's exhilarating, isn't it? I'd love to hear stories. I can even trade you a few of mine, if you're interested. I think our worlds must be very different - I've never heard of some of the things you talk about.

[ He feels a huge measure of guilt for instantly agreeing with her because yes, that adrenaline rush is exhilarating. On some level, he'll always be chasing that "high," that rush. Chasing bad people gets his blood pumping.

But what does it mean that he doesn't mind the chaos it causes around him? ]

It's pretty fucking exhilarating, yeah. I feel like it shouldn't be. I don't know why the fuck I like it so much. [ Again, things he would never typically say out loud to a complete stranger. Fuck all this stuff with his emotions. ] But I wanna hear your stories, too. You wanna meet up somewhere?

[Ahh, that look. He seems to want to hide it, and is doing well, but she knows that feeling intimately. Destruction is beautiful and killing is its own addiction, more intense than anything else she had been tempted to try in her youth.

She smiles at the invitation, nodding a little. Almost looks bashful, but she's good at mimicking emotions she doesn't feel. Truly, she should have been an actress.]

I'd love to. I was going to ask, actually, if you didn't. My place is easy to find, just look for the garden of thorns. I'll make sure they don't harm you.

[He may even have noticed it in passing before. A radius of about 50 feet of black vicious-looking thorned vines surrounds a house that seems to have been built upside-down. The thicket is entirely an illusion and can't hurt anyone at all, but she likes the effect.]

[ For Damien, at least, he doesn't take pleasure in killing, but the chase is what thrills him, the action, the adventure of it all. He does enjoy taking out bad people, but it's more the satisfaction of knowing they can't hurt anyone else. He can't dismiss the fact that he enjoys the chaos, though.

But if given a choice, if he had a chance to really settle down into something of a normal life, he'd take it. It's just...not in the cards for him. He's not a guy who gets to have a life like that. ]

I'll be there soon, then.

[ Everything else aside, he's intrigued by her. He doesn't know what the fuck to make of her, but she's interesting to say the least. The fact that she's got a garden of thorns around her place kind of reinforces that fact.

And when he does get to her place, he's even more curious about her, careful as he makes his way to her door, knocking. ]

Hey. Made it.

[ Clearly. ]

[Oh good, he wasn't one of those who stand there in horror at the vines and refuse to approach. Good man. She appreciates that.

She's dressed down a bit when he knocks, so when she opens the door he'll look down (she's short, it turns out!) to see her in just the chemise and a skirt. No need to be fully dressed when she's at home. At least it's the pre-Victorian style, so appropriate enough as a casual top.]

So you did! Come on in.

[She kicks her boots aside as she opens the door wider. The living space he enters to has a remarkably clear coffee table in front of the couch. Normally littered with writing and diagrams, she's cleared it all off - not for the sake of neatness but because even though she writes in Abyssal, those are still secrets to be kept away from the eyes of those who have no business seeing them.]

Coffee? I- well. It's not real coffee, it's some strange attempt at it that I found at the shops. They give us the oddest things sometimes. But it's close if you don't mind sort of a... damp taste to it.

[ It's always interesting to see where someone lives. You can get a good feel for who they are by the space they inhabit, and what they choose to put on display. The thorns outside were already enough to really pique his curiosity. Like something out of a fucking horror movie. ]

Even if it's coffee-like, I'll take it.

So while you're at it, I gotta know: what's with the thorns, anyway? It's pretty fucking intense when you walk up.

Come with me, then.

[She leads him to the kitchen - it's a small house so it's not far from the door, honestly - and pours him a cup. Hers sits half-drunk on the table where she had left it, and she goes to retrieve it for herself after handing his over. And she smiles, mostly to herself, at his question.]

There's no way to lock doors here and people can just come running in and out so it helps scare people off before they try. That's all it is, really. Now, where were we? Is it me who owes you a story?

[ Alright. Sure. That's a fair enough explanation. Still...interesting, to say the least. ]

That'll scare plenty of people off.

And yeah, you owe me your story.

[What story does she want to tell him, is the question. Obviously not the real one. A story that will get his pants off would be better. He seems like the sensitive sort, maybe she can work with that.]

Well, as I said earlier, I've done something similar to what you have. I came from a very poor kingdom and wanted better opportunities, and was skilled with a sword and magic, so it wasn't too hard to find work as a sellsword in a new land once I had learned the language. Fortunate too that they would hire me as a woman, since that would not have been acceptable employment for one, where I came from originally.

[She sips at her drink as she thinks up the next part. Her smile thins as she adopts a more sorrowful expression, and seems to become hesitant to continue.]

It was good, for a while. I... I thought I finally had made something of myself, even if it meant leaving my family and everything I knew behind. But...

[ Well, she definitely has him listening intently, and then like she no doubt suspected, he's a bit concerned when her demeanor seems to shift. He leans in a little, his expression soft and worried. ]

Hey. You don't have to tell me everything if it's uh, if it's bad. Were you okay?

[She nods slowly, hiding well her satisfaction that he's behaving as she had hoped. She just has to try not to overdo it - she doesn't really care for being pitied, especially over a false story.]

Thank you. But it was long enough ago now, I don't mind. It's nice, actually, having someone who will listen.

[She gives him a reassuring smile, pauses, then leans against the countertop, standing nearer to him.]

It was just hard, in little insidious ways I hadn't seen at first. I was an outsider. Everyone there had perfect pale skin and I stood out like a sore thumb. I fell in love and had a son, but the boy's father left us - and how could I hunt bounties or defend villages from threatening monstrosities if I had a son to raise?

[She seems to stop herself, and sighs.]

Sorry, I didn't mean to get on this topic, I had intended to tell you the exciting stories only.

[ He hadn't really known what to make of her when they'd first started talking, and part of that was simply due to the inadequacies of communicating solely through text. When he'd been able to see her face, well his first thought was that she was beautiful. His second thought was she could understand him on some level. Nothing about her has struck him as odd, other than...well, okay, the crazy ass thorns outside are a little odd, but he's not here to judge.

Hearing her story now, he feels compelled to comfort her, far beyond just the usual platitudes people typically dole out when someone has a sad story. The story of her son's father leaving cuts particularly deep, as Damien himself had left his ex and his child many years ago. He'd been a coward then. He hadn't left because they were a burden to him in anyway, he'd left because he would have screwed up their lives, of that he was certain. What good was he ever gonna be for them?

That's a story he doesn't want to tell. Just like the story of killing Daniel. But he can't seem to help himself. ]

Fuck. He's a fucking asshole for leaving you. And I'm a fucking asshole, too. [ Whatever he was hoping to do - hoping to comfort her, if he could - that's all about to be ruined, he's sure. ] Long time ago, I left my girl when she was pregnant with my kid. Just...left 'em. Never went back.

I'm sorry. I didn't wanna talk more about my shit.

[Oh wow, no, this is perfect - though she manages to conceal the delight on her face as he reveals that bit of information. She's getting all the juicy secrets today, what a treat. Her look of surprise and the little gasp that accompanies it are genuine, but she frowns and bites her lip, trying to look concerned instead.]

I - well. It's in the past, now, right? I won't hold it against you. We've all done things we shouldn't have. This place can give us a second chance.

[She moves closer as she says this, holding her cup as she leans against him a little. Yes, that's right, two broken people who need each other. That's what this is. She'll have to turn things around at least a little though, if he's receptive, since him moping like this isn't exactly a turn-on even if he's pretty fucking hot otherwise.]

[ Unfortunately for Damien, she's saying all the right things. Underneath his posturing lies a sensitive soul with a tender heart. He sleeps around all the time, he's good at fucking and running because he moves around so much that it just works out well for him. He gets to avoid the mess of becoming emotionally attached. But the thing is, it happens easily for him despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise. If someone's been knocked down in their life, if they're in a vulnerable place, he feels compelled to help.

His method of "helping" usually involves sex, at least in part. So, he wants that now. He's good at it, so he thinks he can help her, help the both of them.

Nodding a little, he smiles softly, feeling relieved that she doesn't seem to think less of him for his confession. It's almost too good to be true. ]

I'm a big fan of second chances. This stupid fucking...whatever this is that's going on right now - being fucked with by the gods around here - that aside, there's a couple of good things about this place.

[ He leans in a little closer, intent on turning this around, making her feel better. ]

Beautiful women, for one.

[Perfect, she's read him well, but the current way of things makes most everyone an open book. They're still in the kitchen, so all she has to do is reach over and set her nearly-empty cup of coffee on the counter, then lightly places an arm around his waist as her other hand traces up one of his arms, feeling out muscle beneath his shirt.

The look on her face is probably one he's quite familiar with - that of a woman who is all too eager for some physical affection from him. It pains her to go slow, but she's still trying to let him take the lead. He seems like the type who prefers it that way, and honestly, she does too, but the current pace is agonizing.]

I... I didn't expect this place to bring me someone like you. I know I called you "not bad" earlier but - in person, you're so much more. Please, Damien.

[ Damien usually moves much faster than this, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't taking advantage of her in a vulnerable situation. It's clear to him, though, that she wants this, too, he feels assured of that, and now he's far less inhibited. ]

You only have to say that once. I'll take good care of you, honey. Promise.

[ He smiles softly, and then he takes her face between his hands, kissing her deeply. It's a tender touch, just to start, but then he moves his hands after a moment, caressing down her neck until he reaches her waist, anchoring there for a moment. ]

[She sighs into the kiss, pulse quickening as she presses against him. Finally, someone here hasn't run off or turned her down. What is it with these people declining a fun time together? It's like they're worried she'll kill them in their sleep or something.

To be fair, the thought would probably cross her mind at least.

But the physical intimacy is something she aches for. She can't remember the last time she had had to go this long without sharing someone's bed. Murder is better than sex, but sex is still a necessity.

As his hands reach her waist, hers travel up his back and shoulders and while she can't quite loop them all the way around his neck easily due to her height, she can still hold him close. It only lasts a moment though before those hands slide around to his front and she pulls back a little with a smile as she seeks to remove his shirt.]

[ Technically, it really hasn't been that long since he slept with someone. He's only been stuck in this place a few weeks, and he'd had some fun with a local girl on a mission back home, just before getting here. But a few weeks is still longer than he usually goes without sex, so he's definitely missed physical intimacy, too. Now that they've started, it's like an itch being scratched and he's hooked, he wants this. She's fucking beautiful and she wants him, and hey, bonus points, he can make her feel really good for a little while, too. Take her mind off some shit. He's just a second away from letting her take his shirt off, when some sense of reason kicks in. It's rare for him, but it happens.

On the whole, he's made some questionable and fairly terrible choices in the past when it comes to sleeping with people. Nothing about Caedra herself really makes him doubt his choice to have sex with her right now, but rather, it's his own issue with what comes after. He can't remember the last time he slept with anyone and then actually had to see them again after the fact. If he sleeps with her now, then what? They're stuck in the same place for who the fuck knows how long. She's a nice girl, she even gets him on a level that's rare for him to find in other people. That's an alluring quality, no doubt, but for once, he's actually considering the consequences. Maybe she won't care about hooking up again later. Maybe his modus operandi of fucking and running will serve him just fine. But he can't be sure, and he doesn't honestly want to make things worse for her. She's been through enough. His motivations aren't entirely selfless, but mostly, he doesn't want to inadvertently heap any extra shit on her. He's a fucked up guy with weird attachment issues, no need to get her caught up in his disaster of a life.

So, despite really wanting to take good care of her like he said he would, he stops himself, kissing her one last time, but then pulling back with a heavy sigh. ]

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm sorry. I know what I said, but - we gotta stop. I have to.

Edited 2018-05-28 04:52 (UTC)

>> video.

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(cw: gettin a little pg-13 style nsfw-ish)

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