|
*Aramis is already speaking to someone when you arrive* |
|
|
|
|
|
|
*You try to get your bearings through the thick fog of smoke and raucious noise of the tavern, your feet guiding you back to the familiar space behind all of the noise. But as you approach, a figure appears in your field of view, and you realize someone is sitting at your usual spot. Aramis is sitting there, the glazed-over look in his eyes you've grown accustomed to seeing miraculously gone from his face. Rather, his eyes are solid and intent, focused on the dark figure sitting across from him. You decide to examine this stranger. Though he's inconspicuously dressed, it's blatantly obvious he isn't from around here. For one, he's unusually tall, and the locals here are of less-than-average height at best. His pale skin (or what you can see from it through the dark hood and the long-sleeved shirt) seems to glow, even through the haze of cigar smoke and the dim lamp lights. Shocks of his jet-black hair can be seen trying to snake through the confines of his hood. His eyebrows, while thick and noticable, are nevertheless finely shaped and set above a pair of eyes so pale, only a hint of blue can be spotted amongst the whiteness. You catch a glint of metal and realize that it's a nose ring, dangling from between the unknown young man's nostrils like a bull. Your curiosity is piqued; piercings are something uncommon in the mainland, restricted to those who come from the Zodiac Islands. Were there any survivors from the Great Genocide? you wonder momentarily. You decide to introduce yourself, but just before you make your move, Aramis speaks (though not to you):
"I thought we were going to drop this subject, Reckless," Aramis says bitterly, his words unusually clear and precise. So, this newcomer's name is Reckless. "I tried dropping the subject months ago," Reckless snaps back, an unplaceable accent on his words. "But YOU seem to keep bringing it back up, one way or another!"
"Wreck, I am not in the mood for this sort of nonsense; I'm expecting someone tonight and I'd appreciate it if we could continue this conversation later."
"Who are you meeting tonight, Ari? Is it him?"
*Aramis angrily slams his fist upon the table* "If I wanted to hear the incessant whining of a jealous person, I'd have taken up with a woman!" Aramis shouts, leaning forward and perilously close to Reckless' face. "Now, for your sake, I suggest you take a minute to think about what you're going to say before you say it because my legendary patience is running really thin right now!"
"You don't scare me, Ari; I've had my life threatened before by far more wicked people than yourself!"
"I'm not threatening your life, Wreck, I'm threatening something far more precious to you!"
*Reckless leans back in his chair a bit, examining Aramis' frustrated face with a sort of satisfied ease. "Calm down," Wreck says with a smile. "I know you aren't going to meet with him tonight." Aramis' voice seems caught in his throat as he slowly eases himself back into his chair. "Then why did you even ask such a thing?" he inquires, reaching a shaky hand into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. "Because," Reckless replies with a wicked grin, "I like to see you angry." The two young men seem ill at ease sitting there, scowling at each other while their lips twitch in a desperate attempt to fight the impending laughter. "You know just how to pull my chain," Aramis sighs, lighting up his cigarette."
"Of course I do, Ari; I've been around you long enough to know what seriously pisses you off."
"Damn you to hell, Wreck; you know me too well already."
"Choir boys and angels..."
"Stole your lips and your halo."
"Deus bless that woman all the days of her life."
"A glorious voice and a soul to match."
"May she always bless us with such sweet music."
"I'll weep at her funeral."
*The two young men bow their heads for a moment as if having a silent memorial for this invisible idol they so worship. As soon as they lift their heads, however, Aramis takaes a glance aside and notices you standing there. "Ah--Ahem," he deliberately coughs. "I... well... Hm. I really can't talk tonight, I'm sorry, I... I have other things to do." He stands up and shakes your hand heartily, reaching behind him and tugging on Reckless' shoulder. "Come back tomorrow night, though, and I'll be full and ready to talk." Aramis leans towards Reckless sightly and you can just barely catch his whisper: "You are damned lucky I saw my guest tonight. Don't think for a minute that you're off the hook. We'll talk more about my situation with him upstairs."
*You watch as Aramis and Reckless make their way up the tavern stairs, no doubt to their rented room at the Piig. You wonder, if you should stick around for a while more to catch the most of an argument that is sure to happen, but decide against it. After all, Aramis will fill you in on all of the juicy details later, you're convinced.*
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Wed Jan 05, 2005 @ 03:54am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
