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storyofmychoices · 9 months ago

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Hidden Romance

[Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose Masterlist]

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose (F!MC)

Book: Crimes of Passion

Word Count: ~800

Rating/Warning: Mostly teen, but bc of one line mature to be safe.

Prompt: @choicesmonthlychallenge: rainy day; @choicesficwriterscreations; drabble request by nonny

A/N: It's been such a long time since I've written these two that I feel like I didn't get it quite right, but I hope it's still enjoyable.

Synopsis: Lilah makes an interesting discovery at Trystan's apartment.

Her fingers grazed over the smooth silk fabric of his grey button-down shirt that had pooled on the floor from where she had tossed it the night before. A smile tugged on the corner of her lips as the events of the previous night flickered back into her thoughts. Yet, the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain on the penthouse windows and the aroma of freshly brewing coffee kept her from lingering too long in what was.

She pulled the luxurious fabric over her arms, bringing the collar to her nose. Inhaling his familiar scent, her smile widened despite her attempts to temper it. Deftly, she slipped three buttons through their respective holes, one after another, letting his scent wrap around her.

Her bare feet padded through his apartment, stopping in front of a large ornate bookshelf. Her fingertips danced gently over the cool spines of the many books lining its shelves. Each row was arranged neatly, every book in its place.

She marveled at the number of titles on display, some she recognized, some she didn't, others in a language she couldn't read—Drakovian, she imagined, but she couldn't be sure that was the only language included.

She paused over a section of philosophical texts. Her brow arched as she curiously pulled one from its place on the shelf, marveling at the ornate gold filigree on its cover. She half expected the book to be unread, but the pages were worn, and she recognized his handwriting from the notes in the margins. She was about to slide it back into the open spot on the shelf when something else caught her eye.

She removed a few more books from the shelf only to discover a series of well-worn, soft-cover romance novels hidden behind the books she had removed. A smirk tugged on her lips as she pulled the books forward, revealing a series of increasingly steamy covers with melodramatic titles.

"I hope this is to your satisf—" his voice trailed away as he found her still looking over his secret collection of books.

"What a diverse reading collection you have here." She held one up with a particularly handsome fireman on the cover, his taut chest dripping with sweat. "I didn't know you were such a literary connoisseur."

"You know what they say," he began, placing the tray of coffee and breakfast treats on his end table. "Variety is the spice of life, and I do life so well."

In a few long strides, he stood before her, his loosely tied robe left little for her mind to wander. "They're also a masterclass in—" his lips drew into a devilish smirk, his fingertips curling under her chin, lifting it toward him. "—human anatomy. There's nothing quite like it."

Her gaze remained unphased, not swayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. "I take it you've never heard of Grey's Anatomy, the book, not the series?"

"Too many illustrations for my taste. I prefer the written word," he attempted to defend, his voice smooth as his thumb brushed over her lip.

"Uh-huh..." Lilah frowned, her head tipping to the side questioningly. She took a step back, picking up a book and opening a page at random. "Let's see... ah, here we go, an excellent example of said description of human anatomy," she mocked before continuing with reading a line from the text. "...he thrust his swollen spear into the glistening portal of my womanhood, a rhythm so seductive our bodies danced as one until love's sweet lava overflowed, blinding us in its brilliance."

Trystan stifled a chuckle at her tone and the choice of passage. "What a shining example of American literature, don't you think? I particularly enjoy the metaphors the author uses."

"You mean euphemisms."

"Still very descriptive!"

"Oh, absolutely," she nodded with a playful roll of her eyes. "Very enlightening. I'll have to add it to my reading list."

"See that you do," he encouraged. "Perhaps even borrow my copy."

"I think I'll pass." Lilah tossed the book back at him, sauntering away toward the delicious scent of the fresh coffee. "I will take that, though."

With a delighted smirk, Trystan watched Lilah walk away from him, enjoying how the silk fabric from his shirt fell on her body. "If literary devices aren't your thing, I can certainly think of some hands-on anatomy studies we could engage in."

She sipped the steamy beverage, letting the coffee warm through her as she picked up her phone, reading the new message on the screen. "We've got a case. With any luck, there will be a body for you to—um—assist Ruby with... for your anatomy studies."

"That's not—"

But before he could finish his protest, she had disappeared into the ensuite bathroom, her clothes gathered in her arms.

Thank you to the Nonny who sent the request. I had fun with this even if I'm not 100% happy with how it came out. I love the idea of Trystan reading trashy romance novels lol but as I wrote this, I also considered that Trystan wouldn't hide them but I was already half done. 🤷‍♀️

#trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #crimes of passion #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion choices #playchoices #choices game #lilah rose #trystan x lilah #lovealexhunt #fan fiction #storyofmychoices #march2024

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hollygl125 · 6 months ago

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All I Ever Wanted Was to Stand Beside You: Costa Rica to the Ishmael, and Then Some: A How They Fell Apart & How They Came Back Together Story

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statementlou · 1 month ago

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Hi,

Is the liam article that you read the new one behind a pay wall? I can't access it but I would be really interested to see what it says about how things went. Would it be possible for you to tell how does it explain what led to his fall? Maybe under a cut so anyone who doesn't want to see can skip it?

Thank you and you don't obviously have to do it if you're not comfortable.

oh that's weird it wasn't blocked for me- here this should work for everyone if not lmk. @ other anon there aren't really very graphic pictures imo that's just the clickbait bs but text is below

basically he suggests that the hotel staff took Liam up to his room and then he changed into incognito type clothes (black jacket and cap) and attempted to sneak out of his room by going from the balcony along the side of the building, as we know he (and others of them) have done many times over the years, and which he apparently is documented as having done pretty recently, and presumably lost full or partial consciousness and fell. The waiter Braian who he spent time with in the weeks in Argentina talked in his first interview about Liam jamming the keycard slot in his door previously, which would explain the part here where employees say they can't get into his room.

It is a picture that will shock music fans around the world: the late British pop star Liam Payne being manhandled through a hotel lobby by three men, just minutes before his fatal fall from a third-floor balcony.

The tragic image, which has been given to the Daily Mail, was taken from CCTV footage recorded inside the CasaSur Palermo Hotel in Buenos Aires where Payne was staying at the time of his death on October 16.

High on drugs, Payne, whose face we have chosen to obscure, appears to have been picked up by the trio of hotel employees – he had, according to one witness, been ‘convulsing’ on the lobby floor. He was taken, via the elevator, back to his third-floor suite.

The question is, why did they move him at all, if he was so ill? Why did the hotel not call an ambulance straight away?

The timestamp on the still image shows 16:54:48. Bizarrely, however, a second picture taken from CCTV outside Liam's room shows the three employees and Payne at 16:54:37. In other words, apparently eleven seconds before they were in the lobby.

The journey from the lobby to the third floor takes at least 90 seconds, according to one guest. Clearly at least one of the timestamps is incorrect.

In an image that will shock music fans around the world, the late British pop star Liam Payne is manhandled through the CasaSur Palermo Hotel lobby by three men, just minutes before his fatal fall from a third-floor balcony. One witness claimed he had been 'convulsing' on the floor

He was taken, via the elevator, back to his third-floor suite. The tragic footage given to the Daily Mail was taken from CCTV recorded inside the hotel in Buenos Aires - where Payne was staying at the time of his death on October 16

This picture outside Liam's room shows the three employees and Payne at 16:54:37. In other words, apparently eleven seconds before they were in the lobby. The journey from the lobby to the third floor takes at least 90 seconds, according to one guest. Clearly at least one of the timestamps is incorrect

What we know for certain is that shortly after 17:00, Payne fell 13 metres from the balcony of his room into the hotel's inner courtyard. He died instantaneously.

At 17:11, an ambulance arrived and certified the singer's death. A subsequent autopsy found Payne had suffered 'multiple traumas' causing 'internal and external bleeding.' The toxicology report found traces of 'alcohol, cocaine and prescription antidepressant.'

Just days after Payne's funeral, which took place on Wednesday at St Mary's Church in Amersham, Buckinghamshire, the images perhaps offer a somewhat clearer picture of what happened leading up to the tragic accident. They also raise two serious questions.

To repeat, the first is why would hotel staff – who expressed concern in their call to the emergency services that Payne could come to serious harm on his suite's balcony – take the intoxicated singer up to his room and leave him there alone?

And second, for reasons I will explain, did Liam fall from the balcony while attempting to leave the hotel undetected - a trick he had been pulling since his days in One Direction and which he had repeated just a month previously to evade a concerned bodyguard in Florida?

If the CCTV timestamp is accurate, the sequence of events begins at 15:53 on October 16 when Liam enters the hotel with his friend, the Argentine-American businessman Roger Nores.

Liam is at this point wearing a black cap – which he donned to avoid being recognised by his legions of Latin American fans – and carrying a small bag containing his personal belongings.

The star appears in good spirits and chats with fans in the lobby before heading up to his room with Nores shortly after 16:00.

Payne died after he fell from the balcony of his third-floor suite - just minutes after hotel staff escorted the pop star through the lobby

Payne's suite was found in disarray, with drug paraphernalia strewn across one of the tables. Furniture had also been destroyed

A few minutes later, at 16:05 if the timestamp is right, the pair return to the lobby. Liam has brought his laptop down with him and – crucially, where this timeline is concerned – left his cap and bag up in his third-floor suite.

He continues to chat with a small group of American fans, discussing his life in Florida, where the singer was renting a $12,000 a month house with his girlfriend, the American influencer Kate Cassidy.

At 16:06, Nores says goodbye to Liam and leaves the hotel. At this time, Liam remains in good spirits and continues to interact with hotel guests. At 16:26, Liam is pictured lounging in the lobby, scrolling on his laptop.

Two minutes later at 16:28, Liam is photographed making one of what witnesses later described as three or four trips up to his room in a roughly 30-minute period. Each time he returns to the lobby, his behaviour appears increasingly erratic.

At one point, a witness recalled Payne receiving an email to which he exclaims: 'F*** this s*** mate,' before striking his computer on the floor.

In a separate outburst, he tells another hotel guest: 'I used to be in a boyband – that's why I'm so f***** up.'

It now appears that on the occasions Payne is said to have gone up to his room, he is likely to have been ingesting narcotics. The next known picture of him is this desperately sad one of him being hauled away by the hotel staff at 16:54:48.

Two of the men pictured carrying Payne away are dressed in the uniform of CasaSur reception staff. The Mail understands that one of the two is chief receptionist Esteban Grassi. The third man – wearing trainers, shorts and a T-shirt – works as a masseur in the hotel spa.

A vigil is held by fans for Payne in Buenos Aires the day after his death. Mourners were filmed singing his songs in candle-light

Heartbreaking moment Liam Payne fans break down in tears at vigil

A few minutes after taking the singer back to his room, the hotel put in a call to the emergency services.

'I'm calling you from the hotel CasaSur Palermo,' says chief receptionist Esteban Grassi. 'So, we have a guest who is high on drugs and who is trashing the room. Erm, so we need someone to come.'

The line then cuts out, but Grassi calls 911 again and continues: 'We need you to send someone urgently because, well, I don't know whether his life may be in danger, the guest's life. He is in a room with a balcony and well, we're afraid he might do something.'

The transcript from the 911 call shows that the operator asked reception staff whether they could gain access to Payne's room. The staff replied that they could not.

But why on earth, if Esteban Grassi was indeed concerned that Payne's life was in danger because his room had a balcony, did the hotel allow the singer to be taken up to that room and seemingly left there? And why would they call 911 just a couple of minutes after doing so? At the time of writing, the hotel has not responded to a request for comment.

It would surely have been more appropriate to hold the 'convulsing' Payne in the lobby and call an ambulance immediately. Did hotel staff prioritise keeping the lobby clear for other guests over Payne's safety and well-being?

The Mail understands that no members of the CasaSur hotel staff – including the three men who carried Payne away – are being investigated by Argentine authorities.

Three individuals have been labelled as 'people of interest' in Payne's death. They include 24-year-old Brian Nahuel Paiz and 21-year-old Ezequiel David Pereyra, both on suspicion of dealing Payne drugs.

An Instagram post by 24-year-old Brian Nahuel Paiz, who stands beside the late singer before he fell to his death last month. The post reads: 'Fly high, Chief. Thank you for having enlightened me and for crossing you into my reality. I will always remember you'

The third man is Roger Nores, who – despite having left the hotel long before Payne's erratic behaviour began – has been accused of 'abandonment of a person before death'.

Nores strongly denies the allegation and told the Mail two weeks ago: 'I never abandoned Liam, I went to his hotel three times that day and left 40 minutes before this happened. There were over 15 people at the hotel lobby chatting and joking with him when I left.'

The prolific entrepreneur – who in 2017 featured in the Forbes '30 under 30' list of influential young people for his role in the energy industry – continued: 'I could have never imagined something like this would happen. I'm really heart-broken with this tragedy, and I've been missing my friend every day.'

But while the behaviour of hotel staff leaves more questions than answers, this new picture published by the Mail today leads back to that second question – and a new possibility as to what actually happened when the singer died.

Quite clearly, the picture shows that as the pop-star is taken back to his room, he is neither wearing his black cap or clutching his bag.

And yet, when Payne's body was recovered by the emergency services at 17:11, he was found to be wearing the black cap and to have on his person the small bag he used when out and about.

In other words, it appears that between being returned to his hotel room and being found dead, Liam Payne got dressed to go out.

Could it be that Liam Payne slipped while attempting to leave the CasaSur hotel via his balcony, in a bid to avoid detection by hotel staff?

The Mail understands that hotel staff remained outside his room – according to a statement in the prosecutor's file – seemingly to ensure he did not return to the lobby and disturb other guests.

Police found a host of drug paraphernalia in Payne's room, including burnt pieces of tin foil and traces of white powder. It is certainly plausible Payne may have panicked in his paranoid state and made an ill-fated attempt to purposefully climb out of his room from his balcony.

In a further revelation, a source close to Payne has confirmed to the Mail that the pop star frequently climbed out of hotel balconies in order to avoid detection. In fact, it was a trick he and his bandmates learnt in the early days of their fame to evade their management team while on tour with One Direction. And, shockingly, the Mail can reveal it is also a trick Payne used just one month prior to his death in Florida.

My source revealed that on September 15, while staying at his rental property in Palm Beach, Payne wanted to go out and purchase drugs. His bodyguard, aware of the singer's problem with narcotics and attempts to stay clean, had closed the door to his room and urged the singer not to go out looking for a 'hit'.

Undeterred, my source says the singer escaped via his balcony, stringing a set of sheets together to act as a rope.

Further proof of Liam's high-risk stunts emerged shortly after his death when a picture resurfaced from 2014 showing the then 20-year-old singer standing on a narrow exterior ledge of the 34th floor of his London apartment building – some 350 ft in the air.

The photograph was taken following a night of raucous celebrations marking One Direction bandmate Zayn Malik's 21st birthday.

Later that day, the singer issued an apology to his impressionable young fans, saying: 'You may have seen a photo of me today, taken on top of a building. I regret being there and having a photo taken of me.'

'I do not endorse any fans trying to repeat this as it is extremely dangerous,' Payne's apology continued. 'It was a stupid and irresponsible thing to do. I am sorry.'

Fans have since taken to social media to point out the tragic foreshadowing between the 2014 picture and Liam's death five weeks ago.

The truth is that no one will ever know for sure what Liam Payne's intentions were on that fateful afternoon of October 16. However, the release of this latest picture from the CasaSur hotel lobby helps fill a hole in the sequence of events that led to his fatal fall.

One thing is for sure, the image of Payne as he is taken out of the lobby, at a time when he appears to have needed care and immediate medical attention, raises new and profound questions about where responsibility lies in the tragic tale of the deeply troubled star.What the fuck

#cw death details #the idea that a trick they learned and started doing #because they were trapped in the hotel rooms by the smothering crushing love of the fans #eventually resulted in liam's death.... it's a fucking lot #I'm mad at people for trying to make a story out of this tragedy trying to make it a movie or true crime podcast story #but honestly fiction couldn't come close to that kind of... what #irony? metaphor? it makes me feel insane to think about it's just... so fucking terrible #I love them so much. and there are real actual ways that sometimes that hurts them and fucks up their real actual lives #and I HATE it and don't know how to reconcile or fix it #I don't want to open a big discussion about the article and details it doesn't feel super comfortable #so no promises to answer more stuff about it idk #but sharing the article #hey speaking of feeling uncomfy why the FUCK are people sharing pap pictures from the funeral on here???#also what is the POINT it's hardly a secret moment in which they had their guards down what in gods name do you think a picture taken #in front of a wall of pap photographers #tells you about anything at ALL

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lupeloto · 1 year ago

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"i can live without you, i just don't want to" one-shot

so i made a post here about one of my fav tropey prompts:

"I can live without you, I just don't want to." so i wrote a mickey and ian post reunion in 9x06 drabble about it! (it includes artist!mickey because he is everything to me)

Ian’s hand lingers on Mickey’s cheek, his gaze fixated on studying the sight before him; Mickey. He finds it nearly impossible to wrap his head around. Mickey was right there, laying under him, a soft closed-mouth smile spread across his face, piercing blue eyes staring back at him, the light dusting of freckles that covered his face. The ones Ian missed so goddamn much. Mickey lets his stare linger for a while, giving him time to process before bringing his hand to cup the back of Ian’s neck, guiding their lips together.

They lay on the bottom bunk together, shortly before lights out, Mickey sitting between Ian’s legs with his back leaning against Ian’s chest, doodling on a piece of paper. Neither has spoken much in the past half hour, not too interested in talking, more so just basking in each other’s company. That silence had always been one Ian enjoyed. It was always a comfortable silence when he was with Mickey, a warm one that blanketed the room rather than making it tense. Fuck, he missed him. With that, Ian leans down, pressing his nose deep into the tuft of messy black hair on Mickey’s head and inhaling deeply. He wasn’t subtle about it either, a loud, breathy noise accompanying it, one that caused Mickey to chuckle lightly.

“What the fuck you sniffin’ me for, ya weirdo?” Mickey questioned, turning his head slightly to look back at Ian.

“Just missed you…your smell,” Ian says, realizing it came out slightly creepy after catching a glimpse of Mickey’s raised eyebrows, “Okay I went so long without this, just let me have this.” He jokes, pressing a quick peck to the top of Mickey’s head as he turns back around, getting situated between Ian’s legs.

“Okay, creep. Fuckin’ sniff away I guess,” Mickey returns to his drawing.

“Just couldn’t live without me, huh?” Mickey asks, a smug grin plastered on his face, pretending to be focused on his sketching

Ian sighs dramatically, “Yeah that’s it,” he jokes, rolling his eyes, lifting his head up slightly to steal a glance at Mickey’s drawing.

He yanks it close to his chest in response, “No peeking, asshole,” Mickey scoffs.

Ian rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, his smile quickly fading, “That’s what fucking sucks the most,” he says, eyes fixated on the blank wall before them.

Mickey turns his head slightly, not completely facing Ian, rather a gesture to say What the fuck are you talking about?

“I could live without you, I had to live without you,” Ian references Mickey’s earlier comment, “But fuck, I don’t ever want to. Not ever again.” Ian’s gaze doesn’t break from the wall until he feels Mickey’s hand grip his thigh.

Mickey has almost completely turned around to face Ian, situated between his legs with his own crossed. His hand comes up to cradle Ian’s cheek with such a delicacy that he barely feels his skin, just the dusting of stubble that covered his cheeks and jaw. Ian’s eyes have shifted down, staring at his lap.

“Hey,” Mickey caresses his cheek with his thumb as Ian’s eyes finally meet his, “You won’t have to again. Okay? Promise…you fucking soft bitch.”

His stare lingers for a while on Ian’s eyes, he missed the feeling of getting lost in those soft green eyes. The ones that have pulled him out of so much shit, the ones that can instantly ground him with just one look. He brings their lips together aggressively, their mouth smashing into one another. Once they pull away, Ian manages to catch a glimpse of Mickey’s drawing, immediately softening at the sight. An incomplete outline of Ian’s side profile filled the page. Some areas were clearer than others, but Ian noticed Mickey had started on his freckles, sending a wave of warmth through his body.

Mickey notices what Ian was looking at, turning to him with a smug smile.

“And I’m the ‘soft fucking bitch’, huh?” Ian teases.

“Fuck off,” Mickey’s eyes roll to the back of his head, preparing to spit another sarcastic comment before Ian yanks him back in for another starved kiss.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #gallavich fic #gallavich fan fiction #gallavich fanfic #i hate them a lot theyre gross (i love them so deeply)#i just love writing them being disgusting sappy okay is that a crime??#artist!mickey

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chagrin-roses · 26 days ago

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Kind of pissing me off that ppl are complaining more about the obviously stolen art that Russian soldier guy is reposting rather than the irl gore and shit but ok

#I get that the art is uncomfortable and I personally don’t like it #but drawing problematic themes of fictional characters isn’t a crime #but glorifying SA and gore of real ppl and animals and probably irl cp too is a crime #pls I beg focus on the real shit that they’re doing wrong #I mean like I said I personally don’t care for that art either but those characters aren’t real #they’re just using that uncomfortable art to troll #mouthwashing #also someone ss that art and posted it too?#like if you believe that’s cp why are you reposting the art #idk just #not a good situation #edit:#also to clarify I just don’t rlly ship anything in mouthwashing bc I’m a casual fan #also just not much material for me personally #idrc if ppl ship those two #but nobody deserves hate for it

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ipreferfiction · 9 months ago

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man the only fan spaces i will ever be in these days are the ones full of people with fucked up nasty reprehensible ships and fondness for the worst characters EVER. everywhere else is a god damn minefield but those bitches? yeah baby this is the freak zone and we are all freaks here

#joining the war on immoral fictional content on the side of the immoral fictional content #all the negative qualifiers are said with FULL affection and respect btw #standard modern fanspace (full of antis): nooo you can't ship them they're LITERALLY SIBLINGS (they are not related biologically. or at all #average day in my groupchat: the sickos meme at all times #but like.... seriously especially in popular series? i literally only trust the villain fans #the actual villain fans not the ones who make him (it's always a him) innocent of everything #no! give him back his atrocities! they're enrichment! and also they're hot!!!#tumblr users will joke about their faves being war criminals and then actively ignore the actual crimes they do in favor of woobifying them #i have so many fandoms this could apply to but i'd like to make a special shoutout to the antis in the asoiaf fandom. like????#this is for freaks ONLY go away #discourse tag #ac says things #oh in case my position was not abundantly clear #proship

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rats-and-robots · 11 months ago

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Abelard is used to the Rogue Trader’s… eccentricities. It isn't heretical to simply enjoy tighter spaces… but it certainly is odd that the man is often curled up–fingers silently flipping through some tome or another–high up in a crevice of the ship’s walls where he could, potentially, listen in to the goings on of his retinue.

Abelard has learned to scan the upper lines of the ship’s walls when searching for the Rogue Trader, but has also taken to doing so idlely, just to see if the oddly dexterous operator has found somewhere new to inhabit.

He doesn't do this to hide, he is easily spotted if one knows where to look. Most don't bother looking up.

Odd indeed. But right now, it is some measure of very, very humorous.

Garion von Valancius is lounged in the intricate mechanics of the ship like some feline beast on some jungle tree branch watching and listening to the ongoing bickering between Marazhai and Argenta. Abelard has taken to standing aside, noticing that Argenta–having been around the Lord Captain as long as he has–has also spotted him, throwing glances upward at the man every few seconds to glare at him for finding amusement in this. Marazhai, on the other hand, has just made a scathing comment about the Lord Captain, using that insulting word to refer to the Rogue Trader.

“I believe I instructed you not to call me mon’keigh, Aezyrraesh.”

The drukhari jolted with all the grace of shattering glass, whipping around to look for where the voice came from. Argenta just laughed, and Abelard quietly chuckled into his hand.

“Up here.”

The dark eldar finally looked up, his face suddenly flush with fury and embarrassment, at a loss for words for a moment. Garion smirked down at him, the stretch of his cheeks distorting the warp-burn scar on the side of his face, patiently waiting the stunned xenos’ expression out. Finally, something came out of that fanged mouth, “What are you doing up there?”

“You haven't apologized–” Garion’s head tilts to the side, “–for your blatant disregard for my orders.”

Marazhai flinched, his eyes looking hard to one side, reminding Abelard of a spurned canine. He bowed his head ever so slightly, “My… apologies, Lord Captain…”

The Rogue Trader laughs openly, the metal claws of his replaced arm tapping along the metal he reclines on. “How obedient... You should behave even when you think I'm not around. Farris learned that lesson decades ago.” Abelard would swear an almost… hungry look crossed the drukhari’s face, but he promptly ignores it.

Garion clicks his tongue, the taunting grin falling away from his face, “However, as I've told the rest of my retinue; I am from a Forge World, I am far more comfortable in the recesses of machinery and cable than the open spaces. Out there,” he motions to the hallway, “I am exposed from many angles. Here, I am exposed from only one. Much of my idle time is spent in places like this.”

The drukhari considers that, head tilting to one side, “How interesting. Yet you're cornered there, not exposed and yet trapped. And what of your large open throne and Cathedral?”

“I despise the openness of both, but they are expected of me.” The smirk does not drop from the Rogue Trader's face, “Do you really think I am trapped, Aezyrraesh? Do you plan to attack me? With a sister of battle and my loyal Seneschal behind you?”

“No, but–”

“I am not trapped.” The interruption comes with a tone of finality, “And even were they gone and you with every intent to kill or torture me…” Fabric shifts, and the man draws a long blade previously sheathed in his sleeve, “You would swiftly find that I carry as many weapons as you have spikes in your armor.” The blade is hidden again, “Are you satisfied?”

A snicker and a sneer, “Never.”

Argenta makes a disgusted noise and the argument starts anew. Garion and Abelard share a glance, a simple look that simply said ‘don't let them kill one another’ before the Rogue Trader rolled from his side onto his back in the small space and drawing his datapad back up.

Abelard walks over, leaning against the wall below his Lord Captain, “Should I stop their bickering?”

“They can handle themselves against one another. Just make sure they don't stain my carpets or waste their lives on one another if they draw their weapons.” A small ‘beep’ from the datapad as the man has fully tuned out the argument once again, “Ones with passion such as theirs should have the opportunity to deal it out with one another. The battlefield will be more tolerable if they settle themselves now.”

Abelard tilts his head back. He forgets, often, that this is not, in fact, the Lord Captain's first time commanding such a large group, he still seems so young, and yet he handles the rabble with astonishing grace. He had once been a Crime Lord, had a council beneath him of valuable assets as likely to stab him in the back as they are to be doggedly loyal. He supposes someone like Marazhai may even be more familiar to him than someone like himself.

“Will you openly spar with him as you have the rest of us?”

This seems to make the trader pause. Abelard can only guess what is on his mind in the silence that draws out after it–from Garion, anyway. Did a drukhari, of all xenos, deserve the tradition of the von Valancius flagship? Much less the same one that had antagonized them for so long? At least, that is the line of thought he assumes.

“...Yes. I simply have to finish recovering from Commorragh.” The barely-audible murmur was followed by another small beep. A quiet admission that his oldest wounds still scream at him from being back in the blackened city.

A nod, “I will have the observation deck prepared as soon as you are ready.”

The two warriors huff at one another and part ways, finally. Marazhai shoots a curious look towards the Lord Captain before making his way down the hall.

#agoraphobia oneshot #warhammer 40k: rogue trader #rogue trader fan fiction #abelard werserian #marazhai aezyrraesh #sister argenta #garion von valancius #crime lord scum is actually an iconiclast who knew #coughcough hesahereticactually coughcough #eventually ill get to garion/marzi #eventually #i have to lay out Garion's story first #i gotta have convoluted world building or its not me lmao #ress writes

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