creativeuprisings - Tumblr blog

[creativeuprisings]

Terribly sorry for my unexplained absence.              There was a funeral I was required to attend.

                     {This is of course "Lewis" for there was someone that he killed and he had to disappear into private politicking so that his pretty little arse didn't end up in jail.                                 Lewis didn't make mistakes.                                               He didn't get caught.}      I believe I have a contract to sign, and...people to greet, perhaps? 

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Oh? You're a writer then?                 How touching.                {"Quaint" would have been a little too belittling, even if Lewis is playing a small game to see how far he can push and pull poor Aurie while still keeping the man entranced by him. Unlike Aurie, Lewis is spoiled with affections.                     He's used to those being infatuated with him.                                    He's used to touching and people tracing the elegant lines of his skin.                                                   He's used to being admired for qualities that people want to possess. Because of this, his smirk is smug and perhaps a little too knowing, his eyebrows raised innocently and eyes reflecting a faux-curiosity.             It isn't until Auriello catches his reflection in the computers screen that his demeanor falters, his brows furrowing in tell-tale concern and a frown briefly surfacing.                              Lewis loves mirrors.                                        He hates reflections.      The subtle differences between showing what is seen and showing what is so are astronomical to a man like him, so even with Aurie's act of innocence, his look is just a bit cold around the edges, silently resentful for what he perceives as a betrayal by technology.                          Oh how he hates technology.                                          Everything is more difficult with technology.}                                                        Perhaps I've flustered you enough for you to have forgotten, but I'm afraid you're the one who knows where the bistro is, my dear, not me. I can lead the way if you wish, but I'm afraid we'll only be wondering aimlessly....

             Auriello lets out a noise akin to a purr as fingers dance upon his face once more; as Lewis holds— tugs on the proverbial leash he all but tightly latched around Auriello’s weak throat.

“Charming? That is certainly… new.”

            His extended hand coils to his chest. He reluctantly pulls his head from Lewis; grasp, and gives the other an appropriately characteristic bow. Much like a salute, really. 

           ”Whatever the case, it certainly is a pleasure to meet someone so… Novel, Monsieur Wirths. I might just have to use you as a subject matter for my next book.” 

             The computer is powered off. A look at the reflection of the man beside him reveals…                                     ….some sort of a demon in sheep’s clothing.               A fire burned behind the man, and yet a cold chill hit his back.                               Was his Dementia acting up again?                 He felt something for this man, and yet…                                                                   …was this what he felt?

No. 

 Auriello slams the laptop closed with a choked gasp, and after a moment, turns to Lewis. No fire, no ice. Just a… sinister man.                                                    just…                                                          visions.                                          Visions of an un-right, yet sane mind…

His face is at ease, well feigned gladness of the other’s acceptance. And yet his own eyes, Lewis might have been able to tell, communicated reason to raise his guard back up.

“Lovely, Mon ami. After you.”

Lewis won him over all too completely, not like anyone else he met.                                                   Not like Javid.                                                 Not like Pharzuph.                                            Not like the MI6 Agent. But as infatuated as he was… he would have to give the man his spoils in fair, individualized sections.

He couldn’t let himself be taken so easily.

                          Not like last time.                          Not like with Ymde.                                                                                     No, not again.

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Fair enough.       In any case, with the youth and supernatural health insurance I shant imagine I'll need the immortality anyway. In any case, it'll give me time to come up with another solution for it in my spare time. Not to mention, so long as you're still around, I should by all terms and conditions of our deal, be around too.                            As long as I don't do anything incredibly stupid and have a sudden death, that is.             {Lewis doesn't do incredibly stupid things. Sudden death isn't an option for someone who plans so intricately as him.                                      Or, well, so he thinks.}              Want, after all, is so powerful and universal a thing that if I am to allegiance myself with anyone, you seem to be a perfect match for me.                     In any case, I'll want to briefly read over the contract to make sure there's nothing too bothersome lying in the fine print of things, but I think over all you'll find associating with me a smooth and pleasant thing.                                             I'm very easy to work with. 

     “Immortality is a rather tall ask.”      “There are so few who are truly immortal and they were birthed, not created. The attempts at reproducing them brought such creatures as vampires and they come with a requirement, and several weaknesses.”      They’d at least been a sight better than zombies.      That had been an unfortunate matter.      “It’s all a matter of the possible, and immortality isn’t amongst that. I see no fault in the other requests, and I’d be perfectly willing to adhere to them, and more, so long as whatever terms that appear in our contract are kept,” He explained listlessly, “Because if they aren’t, I will take from you all that I’ve given, and more, until you’ve nothing left.”

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{Well now the flattery is quickly turning into inviting prey. You might want to stop offering your throat to the wolf Auriello, he might just take it.        Sliding his hand along the man's jaw, he looks up at him, smiling in a quiet little manner as he traces his thumb over the scar again, smoothing back and forth over the dip.}                            Is that so?           {A brighter smile.}                                              Well it's charming.  {Auriello's nervous grin sparks a wide smile in Lewis that, if it weren't for the innocent qualities of his face, would look distinctly predatory.}                                                   Lewis Wirths. It's a pleasure to meet you.       {He allows his grin to rest bemused at the mans offer, raising a cool eyebrow to make him sweat for a bit.}                  Well,                          I'm free now? 

A chuckle.

“I am just being honest mon ami.”

Auriello started to say. Lewis Cold skin grazed his own warm face. The trail of touch cut through him. Steam seemed to spontaneously fathom itself underneath the finger. Auriello just… stopped typing at the touch, closing his eyes. The touch had caught him off guard, not just physically, but psychologically. He liked this.

…Much more than he should have.

“It is a scar.” He started on cue of the finger leaving his face. His eyes took a longing, deprived stare down at the computer for a second before he straightened his expression back to the content look he sported, and raised his head to look at Lewis

“My brother and I did not get on well as children, you understand.” An amused huff. “He came at me with a computer part. Ran from France the next day.”

He laughed nervously as the other mentioned him sweet talking. “Monsieur. i have a quiet code of morals on sweet talking other men. I’d have to know their names and have taken them out for something, casually, at least once.”

He looked away with a bright smile.

Looked back with a nervous smile, and the biting of his lower lip.

“And on that note, I am Auriello Haddard, and I… I happen to know of a great bistro that is a few blocks from here whenever you have the time, hmm?”

He held out his hand, giving a curt nod.

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Perhaps I like you because you dislike me?     {Or perhaps it's because you're wounded, Honey.                      Unlike Viola who makes small and slight attempts to mop up her messes so that others can't transparently see. You.                        You                              Are                                   Dripping                                                 Blood                                                          Everywhere         You're whimpering and limping with every defiant stance, and every screamed out protest, and every single violent throw. You're leaving a trail of blood and you're wearing yourself down and any second you're going to fall to your knees and Lewis is going to be the first to leap on you.                   But first,                                                 He wants to see you crawl.}             I'm not going to hurt you.                 {He falls to his knees readily, lower than Honey, submissive, and offers out a hand, a small smile on his face. He's fine with being bitten and scratched and kicked and punched. He's fine with all the screaming. He delights in it, and he has insurance of a supernatural kind for his injuries now.}                                                  I just want to know about all you've seen. 

I don’t, want to talk to you. And I’m, not upset, and you’re a liar and I hate you.

[There has to be a prize for being the most contrary and difficult thing in the room, and if there is, someone needs to give it Honey because he’s won.]

Go, make Maggie swoon over you, instead. She’s the one, who’s stupid enough to. Like you.

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I was just checking up on you, really.               I figured you'd be upset, and believe it or not I do actually find you endearing.  How are you holding up? 

creativeuprisings replied to your post: creativeuprisings started following you Is it bad…

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Merry Holidays, my vain associate. I do hope that you'll excuse that I let myself in, I thought it would look better without the hassle of wrapping. - A.

Oh Anders, how did you know what I wanted?      {If this was meant to insult Lewis playfully, instead it just has him fixing his hair in the mirror happily.} 

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{Flattery will get you everywhere.            Soon Lewis' personality might turn and he might view the flattery as tasteless groveling and find it in his best interest to slowly squash you like a bug beneath his fine leather shoes.                                                   But for now he appreciates the compliment.}     You are far too kind, really.          {Canting his head to the left, he watches the man type into his computer, reaching out and touching two smooth fingertips to the dimple on Auriello's left cheek curiously.                                      It was an imperfection, but a cute one.                                               In that odd way that Lewis couldn't like any one person, he liked it. Found it amusing, interesting. It was funny how one could be attached to a dimple, but completely dismissive of humanity.}           If I didn't know any better, I'd wager that you were trying to sweet-talk me, you know. It's rather endearing. 

Auriello noted the glint in his eye; the subtle look of irritation upon glimpsing down at the photo of a face which resembled his own. He couldn’t help but smile. 

The other’s comment on Icarus only made his smile brighten.

“Ah, I see you have heard of it, then!” He exclaimed, patting Lewis on the shoulder once and quickly drawing his hand back before pocketing his phone. 

“I share that bit of loathing for the damned thing myself. It is a mongrel.” Auriello mused out loud, typing something into his laptop. “Unlike you, Monsieur.” He complimented, nodding.

“A face like that only belongs to one worthy of it. A demon forged of the wires and metal of a vain man much like my brother hardly deserves to don a face as precious as yours, personally.”

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Tumblr Crushes:

magpiemagician

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thepuppeteerofmen

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 #I appreciate you so much I hope you know that      I suppose I do now. {Oh splendid.                           And he didn't even have to put much effort into it. There are advantages to talking to someone when they're high as a kite on pain medications and at a point of distinct vulnerability and emotion turmoil.                                           Isn't there?} 

If tumblr user creativeuprisings doesn’t calm down on liking all my posts I’m gonna end up right at the top of his crush list.

Good.

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{It might have been previously mentioned that Lewis actually wasn't too hard to rile up when something rubbed him the wrong way.            A temper driven by ego and childish wants.                           Something as trivial by multi-verse standards as a robot possessing his face is one of those things. Lewis has a special connection with his angel-face that betrays his nature entirely.                                              It's been his greatest weapon. Having its rarity somehow ripped from his fingers grated against his nerves irritably and Lewis barely resist a grinding of his teeth.}                                          No thank you.          I hold no sentiment with inanimate objects, and the advancements of technology for what can only be visceral human pleasure is something I have no interest in. 

Auriello blinked and looked down, caught a bit off guard.

“Ah, my apologies, Mon ami.” He searches his phone and finds a picture, showing it to Lewis.

“You favor a robot my Brother has manufactured under his work— or rather, Icarus favors you. Quite spectacular, really. If You’d like to meet him…”

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That's certainly an interesting response.     {Interesting in the way that Lewis has never heard it before, at least. As a man who gets around quite a few social circles and has seen and done quite a few things, catching him off guard, even slightly, is quite the accomplished thing.}                       So, by that logic, you don't typically wake up until around...noon? My...                                        What an active night-life you must lead.        {He lets the implicated sins of doing so leak into the words like poison, and ever so slightly, there's an expanse in his grin. As Auriello looks him over, Lewis simply tilts his head and watches where his eyes trail. Evidently enjoying the attention. It's something that he's more than used to, with a face like his.                                                     It's something he's dependent on.}                                     You're easily impressed. I merely have an observant demeanor, though I will admit to being quite the bookworm.          Thank you for the compliment, however.                                   {There's a cool raise of his brow, but crossing his arms behind his back, he follows him as instructed, mostly curious and somewhat suspicious.}      Do you invite all your customers to the back for coffee and conversation, or am I just special to you?  

+ creativeuprisings

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 THEPUPPETEEROFMEN LIKES THIS {Oh if you think Lewis isn't going to call you out on menial little things that are meant to be private and have a generally agreed upon code of secrecy.                                      You have a lot to learn.}            Voyeurism, or just admiring?

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