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lickstynine · 6 years ago

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Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Twenty-Six

I was planning to save this one for tomorrow, but Tumblr is a glitchy dumpster fire that posted it when I hit “QUEUE,” so here you go

written with @ocsickficsideblog

Alistair stomped out of the shopping centre, texting Taddy to come take him home. He was pretty sure he was allowed to do that - they’d probably be shoe shopping for ages. The chauffeur showed up quite promptly, as he’d just dropped off Reggie at a nearby café.

“Afternoon, sir.”

“Hey,” Alistair mumbled, not even bothering to correct the sir. “Just take me fucking home.”

“Is your celibate home under renovations?” Taddy asked, already taking off towards Alistair’s crappy block of flats. The drive wasn’t long at all - the walk had only taken ages because Kit had the pace of an old woman with a cane.

Taddy’s reply almost raised a snort from Alistair, through he kept having to swipe tears away with his fists. He curled up in a corner of the car, biting his nails.

“I don’t remember shopping being that torturous.” Taddy mused, “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I have a toxic personality. I once heard a shrink say that to my mother.” Alistair sighed.

“The same mother who would ruin the life of anyone who disagreed with her?”

“I always fuck everything up for the people I love,” Alistair mumbled. “She hates me too. Kit would rather be with her because I just fucking upset him and get on his nerves…” Alistair was way beyond holding back tears now. Taddy gently patted his shoulder.

“Master Kit won't stay mad. As petty as he is, he isn't very good at holding grudges. Except with that Mister Toby. Quite an odd case there.”

“That’s because it’s with Jules,” Alistair mumbled. “Nobody wants him hurt like that.”

“And Master Julius wishes well for you, too. He's probably expecting you, isn't he?” Taddy prompted.

“Probably. I just...I hate fighting with Kit,” Alistair mumbled. “That girl called me a fuck-up.”

“Miss Siofra? She is a bit… Crass. Master Kit was musing the other day about how he 'seems to attract heathens’.” Taddy almost unconsciously mimicked Kit's accent when quoting him - nothing Kit said sounded right without the comically posh intonation.

That made Alistair smile a bit, but he was still crying. “I don’t want to get between him and her. But she doesn’t like me.” He didn’t actually know that, but he was too emotional to be rational at the moment. “And I get anxious when Kit is off somewhere alone. I know it’s stupid, I’ve been told - but I can’t fucking help it. I fucking found him half-dead on my bathroom floor a few weeks ago!”

Taddy cringed - as oblivious as he'd been at the time, he still felt like a guilty accomplice. “I know. I worry too. I'm glad he's staying with you and Master Julius for now. Master Reginald has been… temperamental… as of late.”

Alistair pulled a face. “Ugh, yuck. He has?”

“Well, he's always temperamental, but moreso lately. I think it's the divorce.” Taddy said.

“He’s getting divorced again? Shocker.”

Taddy chuckled. “At his last wedding, one of the aunts gifted him a portrait of Henry VIII. It took him three days to figure out why everyone else laughed when he unwrapped it.”

Alistair grinned. “Good God, I’m glad Kit takes after his mum.”

Taddy nodded, pulling up in front of Alistair's block of flats. “Tell Master Julius I said hello.”

“Will do. Thanks for picking me up,” Alistair said. Taddy waved and drove off.

Back in the chaos of the shopping center, Siofra was still fuming. Her anger for Alistair was mostly gone, but she couldn't find Kit, and it was getting frustrating. She'd shamelessly barged into the men's room to look for him, but only found a terrified and confused teenage boy. In a less crowded place, Finny could maybe have tracked him. As it was, though, all Siofra could do was keep stomping around the shops, phone in hand as she fruitlessly rang Kit's cell.

It was nearly an hour later before she gave up. Siofra didn't know how she could've misplaced Kit - he wasn't in any shape to sprint away, and she hadn't been far behind him. Yet two laps around the shopping center had produced nothing but frustration. She thunked down on a bench, scowling at her phone. “I ought to go on the bloody intercom and call him like a lost toddler.” She muttered. Finny rested his chin sympathetically on her leg, and she ruffled his ears with her free hand. “We've gotten quite the blooming workout today, haven't we?”

Finny didn't respond of course, and Siofra looked back at her cell. It was nearly dead - she couldn't keep spamming Kit in hopes of a reply. But she could call someone else.

Alistair jumped when his phone started ringing, fumbling with it. “Hello?”

“Where did you get off to?” Siofra didn't sound angry, just tired and worried.

“Home… I thought that’d be better. Where’s Kit?” He paused, sighing. “Sorry. I know I’m a fuck-up, I’ll try harder. Put Kit on, I need to apologise.”

“What are you on about? I didn't say you were a fuck-up. I said you fucked up.” Siofra huffed. “That's not the point, though. I can't put Kit on. His skinny arse teleported to who the hell knows where. I was hopin’ you might be the who in hell who knows. Bloody fuck, I'm not even makin’ sense. I can't find your idiot cousin. I was gonna ask you to come back inside an’ help me look, but…” She sighed.

“I’m coming,” Alistair said at once. “Hang on, I’ll run back. It’s not that far when you’re not dragging Kit along. Okay, where have you looked?”

“Everywhere! I've walked the place end to fuckin’ end! He's not hard to miss, an’ 'e certainly ain't fast. Did 'e catch a breeze and drift up into the fuckin’ rafters?” Siofra actually looked up at the ceiling out of sheer desperation.

“You’ve checked all the bookshop? Every little corner?” Alistair was panting as he ran back through the streets.

“I asked the girl by the door if she'd seen 'im. He's not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Where the fuck has he gone..? This is all my fault!” Alistair wailed. “What if he’s been kidnapped?”

“He has 'is phone. I doubt 'e's been snatched, 'e’s just… hiding.” Siofra was trying to stay calm - the absolute last thing she wanted was to deal with another one of Alistair's fits - but his words made her worry. Kit was right at the intersection of nonthreatening and visibly wealthy.

“Hang on, let me think… Where did he used to hide when we were kids?” Alistair mumbled. Kit had always gone for a closet, or his bedroom if he was close enough. He just wanted a door to lock between him and the rest of the world. “You checked all the toilets?”

Siofra couldn't help laughing. “All the ones I could find. Some'o the lads weren't too happy to see me.”

“Um… he ran off in the direction of the food court. He’s not fast, like you said. Maybe he’s holed up around there somewhere.”

“I mean, I've circled the place like a fuckin’ vulture, but I'll try again. We can't keep talkin’, my phone's almost dead. Meet at the food court.” Siofra instructed. She hung up, shoving her phone in her pocket and hurrying off towards the familiar smell of grease and indecision.

Alistair joined her when he arrived, pink-cheeked and bending sideways, clutching at the stitch in his tummy from the running. “Any luck?”

“Nope.” Siofra scowled. “Where the hell did he go? Is there some liquor store down the road I don’t know about?”

“Not that I know of. Are you sure you checked every corner of the bookshop? Because that’s where he usually hides - around the books.”

Siofra shrugged. “I didn’t scour the place, I asked the gal at the door if she’d seen him. How do you miss three feet of red hair and ten pounds of gold?”

“She could have. I’m looking in there,” Alistair said. “Come with me, you’ve got a sharp eye.”

“If ya think it’s worth a shot.” Siofra would’ve checked the roof at this point if she knew a way up. She gently tugged Finny’s leash, and the dog stopped sniffing a trash can to follow them.

The bookshop was uncharacteristically crowded, but it quickly became clear why - the newest volume of a popular young adult series had been released, and there were a handful of signed copies mixed in at random like golden tickets. Teen girls were shoving at each other, desperately trying to peer through the shrink-wrap, as if they’d be able to see the signature before buying and unwrapping it. Siofra groaned in annoyance.

“What the fuck is all this?”

“New book out. That one with the sorcerer’s daughter and the vampire hunter or something? I don’t know, I just skim read it.”

“You read it?” Siofra snorted.

“Jules read it. I just skimmed it because I hoped it’d have gory vampire bits. Which it didn’t.” Alistair tried to fight through the sea of teenagers to look in every quiet corner of the shop. “Come on, it’s so crowded in here that girl at the front could have easily missed Kit.”

Siofra nodded, scouring the fantasy and historical fiction sections with a sharp eye. Finny sniffed around curiously, but didn’t seem to find anything. Alistair prowled about frustratedly, checking round every bookcase. He thumped on the bathroom doors in frustration. “Oi! You in there, Kit?”

There was a tiny yelp of surprise from inside. “...Al?”

“Kit! Oh thank God, we’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He quickly called to Siofra to tell her, then hurried back to the door. “Let me in…”

“Yea, hold on.” After a moment, the lock clicked, and the door opened a sliver. Kit stepped back right away, staring at his shoes. He knew he looked a mess, and he wasn’t proud of it. His hair was a disheveled mess - he’d pulled his scarf over it to draw less attention - and his eyes were ringed with smeared mascara.

Alistair felt awful when he saw the state Kit was in. He immediately hugged him tight. “I’m sorry!”

Kit groaned at his cousin’s crushing grip. “It’s not your fault. I… I was getting overwhelmed, and I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, if you agree to try to tell me when you feel like that, I’ll try to stop being so full on sometimes,” Alistair mumbled.

Kit nodded. “I just… I’m nervous about the party, and it’s loud and crowded here, and we discussed the complaining beforehand, so when you started, I just… It got to be too much.” Kit had honestly been properly pissed in the moment, and he was still slightly ticked, but not enough to be bothered. At this point, he was just tired, defeated, and miserable.

“Sorry. I guess we sort of have different ideas about when teasing goes over into complaining.” Alistair assumed if he wasn’t serious, it didn’t really count as complaining. But he hadn’t really taken into account that only he could really know whether he was serious about something or not.

“Yeah.” Kit nodded limply. He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a banging on the door.

“Oi! How long are we gonna spend on bog confessionals?”

Alistair rolled his eyes. “She’s a charmer,” he said, but playfully. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t go out looking like this.” Kit went over to the sink, dampening a paper towel to wipe the smeared makeup off his face.

“I’ll redo your face,” Alistair said, as a peace offering.

“I don’t have my mascara with me.” Kit sighed, trying to clean up his raccoon eyes.

“I’ve got eyeliner. Will that do?”

“I… I don’t usually wear eyeliner. Do you think that would look okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll do it all fancy,” Alistair said.

“Fuckin’ hell, we’re havin’ a beauty salon now?” Siofra cried, loud even through the door.

“Pretty much,” Alistair called back. “Two minutes.”

“Fuck this, I’m gettin’ a coffee. Find me when you’re done, if the screamin’ girls don’t eat ya first.” Siofra went off to the café attached to the bookstore, Finny following loyally.

Alistair rolled his eyes, gripping Kit’s chin carefully. “Stay still. Fancy shit is harder to get even.”

Kit was dutifully still, allowing Alistair to move him like a mannequin. Alistair pressed very lightly with his black eye pencil, making a soft grey line around Kit’s eyes that emphasised their shape. The older boy waited for him to finish, then turned to look in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“It looks good on you. Everything does.”

“Mm, most things.” Kit amended. “There are some old photographs of me that I’m quite glad I cannot find.” He pulled a comb from his pocket, smoothing his hair back down in the mirror.

“Why? What were you wearing?” Alistair asked, looking amused.

“You don’t need to know.” Kit smirked, walking out of the bathroom. He was drawing the eyes of quite a few thirsty teenage girls, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet as he looked for Siofra.

Alistair grinned. “Watch out they don’t swarm like piranha, Kit…”

“I’ve always hated fish.” Kit stared at the ground as he walked, trying to avoid the gaze of the girls tactlessly shoving themselves in his way. Alistair led him along, not above elbowing them out the way if he had to. Kit mumbled something about that being rude, but didn’t actually make his cousin stop. Siofra was just around the corner in the café, but to Kit’s horror, there was another familiar red-headed figure at a table by the window.

Alistair felt Kit stiffen beside him. “What is it?” he asked, looking up - then he spotted him too. “Shit!”

“Al… we can’t go over there.” Kit mumbled, pulling his scarf up around his face.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll send Siofra a message,” Alistair mumbled.

Kit handed it over, shuffling nervously where he stood. “She’s going to think I’m an idiot.”

“No she won’t.” He paused as he tapped out the hasty message. “Does she know what he does to you?”

“...sort of.”

“How much is sort of? Will she understand why we need her to leave?”

Kit chewed nervously at his lip; he hadn’t told Siofra that much, just that his father was awful like Alistair’s parents. He had no way of knowing how seriously she’d taken him, or if she realized how wretched the Renfrews were. “I hope.”

Alistair sent the message, simply telling her to meet them outside right now, it was important. He ducked his head, wishing he had a scarf for his bright hair too. Luckily, the girls weren’t interested in him - he didn’t look nearly as expensive or pretty as Kit. Siofra felt her phone buzz, and she checked the text, stuffing the bagel she’d impulse-bought in her mouth to grab her coffee.

“C’mon, Finny,” She mumbled through the dense bread, “We gotta go, apparently.” Like Alistair, she had no qualms about shoving her way through the hormonal parasites, and she nearly spit out her bagel to yell at a girl who jostled her coffee. Just the muffled angry noise she made seemed to be enough, seeing as the girl ran off into the crowd. Before long, she was outside the shop to meet the boys.

Alistair ran to her at once, feeling uneasy the moment he took his eye off the café. “We need to go, we can’t stick around this area.”

Kit nodded urgently, staying latched onto his cousin. His heart was pounding so hard, it seemed like he could feel it in teeth, and all the colour was gone from his face. He was breathing rapidly, and starting to wheeze because of it.

“Relax. We’re in public,” Siofra reassured him, “It’s not like you’re bleedin’ in a pool with a shark.”

“No, it is as close to that as is possible on land,” Alistair said, wrapping his arms around Kit, propping him up. “It’s okay, Kit, we’re going. Breathe…”

“I want to go home.” Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin. Finny nosed his legs worriedly.

Alistair held Kit upright, struggling with him to get his phone out of his pocket. “Sure, we can go home. Siofra, you coming too?”

“I can, if ya want.” She was clearly talking to Kit more than Alistair.

“You… you don’t have to.” Kit sighed, “I’ve already wasted half your afternoon.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have wasted time lookin’ for ya if I didn’t like bein’ with ya, stupid. I’ll come with.”

“Can I ask you something first?” Alistair mumbled, blushing. He started pulling Kit away from the café, but he kept his eyes on Siofra. “Something dumb.”

“I expect everything you say to be dumb. What’s up?”

“Do you...despise me?” He frowned. “I was trying to word that to sound less dumb and it fucking backfired.”

Now Siofra snorted. “No. I think you’re a bit annoyin’. Bit of an idiot. But I don’t hate ya or nothin’.”

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s generally the best I can hope for. You’re alright too. Good fun in small doses,” he said, smirking.

“So you can hold your women about as well as your liquor?” She grinned.

“Oh god, don’t bring that up,” Alistair groaned.

“Just drag your idiot out to the car.” Siofra laughed. “You did text the driver, right?”

“Yes, he’s over there. He can’t magically make a parking space materialise closer to the entrance.”

“Pity we can’t pay for that.” Kit mumbled, eliciting another snort from Siofra.

“Trust you to say that,” Alistair teased, getting into the car and hauling Kit after him. “Hi again, Taddy.”

“Afternoon, sir.” Taddy grinned. “So eager to see me again?”

“Oh yeah, I try to manoeuvre a chance encounter whenever possible.”

“As if. You try to not leave your flat whenever possible.” Kit teased. He was trying to be lighthearted like the others, but he was obviously still shaken.

Alistair wrapped an arm around him. “You alright?”

Kit sighed and shook his head. “No. I’m terrified.”

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you.”

“Not for now. For the party. I nearly had a heart attack back there. What am I going to do on Monday?” Kit groaned.

Alistair sighed, trying not to show he’d been worrying about that too. “We’ll figure it out. The house is fucking big enough, we’ll avoid him as much as possible.”

“How big is the place anyway?” Siofra asked.

“It’s gigantic, Siofra, trust me,” Alistair said.

“I've learned better than to trust guys who say that.” She grinned.

“Oh Jesus…” Alistair groaned.

“What were you expecting, Al?” Kit chuckled.

“Yeah, okay, I walked into that.”

Siofra laughed, and Finny barked, putting his front paws on Alistair's leg. Alistair leaned over and made a considerable fuss of him, as if he hadn’t seen him for weeks. Finny licked his face gleefully.

“Master Alistair, we try to keep it PG-13 in the car.” Taddy teased.

“Oh ha ha. You should be saying that to these two.” He nodded at Kit and Siofra, though they were merely sitting sedately together.

Siofra just rolled her eyes. Kit was half asleep on her shoulder, worn out from all the stress. Alistair stroked his hair in a similar way to how he’d stroked Finny. Siofra raised an eyebrow at him. “Tryna steal both'o my men, are ya?”

“Kit’s just as much mine,” Alistair said loftily. “Though I don’t want him for the same things you do. You can take charge of that side.”

“Really? I thought you noble folk were into that. Keepin’ pure blood pure an’ all that bullshit.” Siofra grinned.

“Our parents were worried about disabilities from inbred children. Though some of our older relatives married second and third cousins.”

Siofra scrunched her nose. “Jaysus… I was kiddin’.”

Alistair nodded. “Think of any disgusting and vile thing in the world, and I can almost guarantee it’s happened in our family.”

“Charming lot you are.”

“Aren’t we just?” Alistair sighed. “I wish Kit would cut them off too. Being poor and free is much better.”

Siofra shrugged. “I mean. I agree. But he's clearly got some sort'o hangup about it.”

“Mnn. I’m not sure what that is. Or maybe I’m thinking too deeply about it and he’s just a bloody snob,” Alistair said, giving Kit’s shoulder a pat. He shifted a little, but didn't sit up.

Siofra chuckled. “Probably just a snob.”

Alistair didn’t reply, sighing. He felt it was more than snobbery somehow, but he wasn’t sure if he was just being overprotective again. Finny seemed to pick up on Alistair’s concern and gave his cheek a slobbery kiss. Alistair laughed, reaching over to hug Finny properly. It was like hugging a giant stuffed animal, all soft fur and bright eyes. Finny climbed up into his lap, tail wagging enthusiastically. Alistair was positively flattened, but he hugged Finny happily. “Siofra, look!”

“How could I miss that fuckin’ sight?” She snorted.

“He really likes me, see!” Alistair said, sounding so delighted, like a tiny kid.

Siofra rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Yeah. And your stupid arse bought ‘im a collar worth four times more’n his furry purebred arse.”

“Oh, to Kit I spent the equivalent of a weekend bender. I’ve seen him buy a bottle of wine for almost three grand!”

“He what?” Even after seeing Kit drop thousands on jewelry, Siofra hadn't quite wrapped her head around how much and how freely he spent money. Unlike Alistair, she'd grown up in a functional middle class home and was used to sane people with budgets and normal jobs and cars that cost less than a small house.

“I told you, money isn’t scarce in our family. It’s something that’s always been there.”

Siofra shook her head. “That's fuckin’ wild… sure don't mind lettin’ him pay for shit, though.”

Taddy chuckled. “Then perhaps you can carry Sleeping Beauty upstairs.” he suggested, pulling up in front of Alistair's flat.

“Yeah, sure.” Siofra slid the shopping bags off her arm, holding them out to Finny. “Hold these, will ya?” He took the bag handles in his mouth, climbing out of the car after Siofra exited with Kit.

“Any reason why you entrusted the dog, lovely as he is, to carry your shit before me?” Alistair said.

“He's got more common sense.” Siofra replied. She carried Kit in her arms like knight holding a princess, not at all bothered by the weight.

“I could have carried Kit too. I’ve been carrying him since I could walk,” Alistair mumbled. It was actually only a slight exaggeration there.

Siofra shrugged. “He was already latched onto me. You can carry Finny if it makes ya feel better. They probably weigh about the same anyway.” She chuckled.

“I don’t want to disturb him. Look at the good job he’s doing,” Alistair said fondly.

Finny let out a muffled ruff, wagging his tail. Siofra just snickered.

“Should I tell Julie you're in love with my dog? I dunno how he'd feel about that sort'o threesome.”

“Gross! He’s used to me with dogs,” Alistair grumbled.

Siofra snorted so hard, Kit shifted in her arms. “Oh, so you can have a side fling with any bitch that suits ya?”

“That’s not what I meant! Didn’t they have that story at your high school, where the girl died from dog semen?”

“I mean, yeah, but nobody I knew was stupid enough to believe it.” Siofra rolled her eyes, shifting impatiently as she stood outside the flat. Even carrying Kit, she had outpaced Alistair going up the stairs. “Unlock the door before I kick it down.”

“Hang on a fucking second,” Alistair said, hurrying along the corridor and spotting the key in the lock.

Siofra sauntered inside at once, dumping Kit on the couch to take her bags from Finny. “Oi! Julie! Wanna see some expensive shiny shit?”

Julius came in from the kitchen, peeling off rubber gloves. “Ooh, yes please!”

Siofra was dumping jewelry on the table like a pirate showing off booty, and Finny ran around Julius's legs, barking happily. Kit seemed less pleased, stirring and groaning on the couch. Julius grinned, ruffling Finny’s fur. “Hello, sweetie! This is a fine welcome.” Finny jumped up on his chest, tail swishing.

Kit rubbed his eyes, sitting up with a tired sigh. “What circle of hell did I end up in?”

“The usual one,” Alistair said. Julius couldn’t greet him - Finny jumping had knocked him onto his bottom, and he was giggling beneath a mass of fur.

Kit just drooped back down on the couch. “I'll give each of you fifty quid right now to make it a quieter circle of hell.”

“Finny, hush.” Siofra quickly put a hand over the dog's mouth. He licked her.

“He’s such a sweetheart,” Julius said, clambering to his feet. Finny barked appreciatively, nosing Julius's hand. When he was done fussing over the dog, Siofra dragged him to the table to show off the matching jewelry she and Kit had gathered, all rubies and rose gold. Normally, Kit would have joined them, but he was already dozing off again.

Julius was an ideal audience for this, examining each piece of jewellery in awe. He ran his fingers over the bracelet and necklace and tried on the rings. Siofra’s hung off his little fingers, but Kit’s fit quite snugly. Kit didn't have bracelets or necklaces, since they'd be hidden by a suit, but he'd found some intricate rose gold collar pins, as well as a myriad of earrings. Once they'd gone through all of those, Siofra pulled out the dress to show Julius.

He gasped. “Oooh! It’s just the right shape for you!”

“Took fuckin’ ages to find the right one.” She huffed, but she was grinning.

“It’s beautiful,” Julius said, feeling the smooth material and swishing the skirt. Siofra puffed up her chest.

“Gonna be fun to go to a real bougie party. I’ve never been a proper guest before, just a performer…”

“Did you burst out of a cake and belly dance?” Alistair snorted.

Siofra rolled her eyes. “No, but that might pay better. If you used your three brain cells, you'd remember I have a band.”

“Hm. Less fun. But seriously, I wouldn’t get excited. Our family parties consist of people with too much money wasting it on fancy liquors that they puke up within two hours. Though it’s fun to fuck with people you have dirt on.”

“What sort of dirt?” Siofra looked almost devilish as she grinned, leaning close like they were kids gossiping in school.

“Oh god, our family has some big-ass skeletons in the closet,” Alistair said. “You think me almost burning down my school was big? That was just like page twelve on the family newspaper. We’ve got bigamy, hidden children, secret abortions, affairs that were found out through the mutual sharing of STDs… I could go on.”

As horrified as she was, Siofra couldn’t stop grinning. “I kind of want you to.” Morbid curiosity was getting the better of her, and she couldn’t help wanting to know more.

“Let me find a good one… Oh, Great-Uncle Austin bought a studded diamond necklace for a quarter of a million just so he could strangle his mistress with it. She was pregnant and was going to reveal it to the family. He said he wanted to leave the diamond imprints on her neck so she’d be scarred forever with her greed.”

“He didn’t! You’re making this up, Star,” Julius said, horrified. He certainly hoped Alistair was making it up.

“I swear to god I’m not. That’s a favourite story to tell. He bought himself the best lawyer in the country and only got a seven year sentence for manslaughter. Don’t ask me how. You know how lawyers twist the case,” Alistair said.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ…” Siofra shook her head slowly. “Rich people are somethin’ else…”

Kit was stirring again on the couch, mumbling quietly in his sleep. Siofra turned to look at him. “Is there a pea in princess’s mattress?”

Alistair snorted. “Maybe there’s a disturbance in the force when I talk about our family.”

Siofra snickered as well. “If there was a force, your family would be the fuckin’ Sith lords.”

“The Sith are way too cool to be our family. All they do is sit and drink and...abuse their kids, it seems. And wives.”

“Charming bunch’o bastards.” Siofra muttered, “We could always poison the punch.”

“I expect Kit will be downing it, but I’m all for it if we can hold him back.”

Siofra snickered. “Temptin’, but I don’t think we can get our hands on that much poison by Monday.” She looked over into the living room when Kit let out a loud snore, and guffawed as he snorted and toppled right off the couch.

Alistair laughed too, going to haul him up. “Kit! Go to bed if you’re gonna sleep.”

The older boy groaned dramatically, holding his arms out for Alistair. “Carry me?”

Alistair rolled his eyes, but scooped Kit up into his arms without hesitation. Though Kit had put on a little weight with his new diet, Alistair still worried about how easily he could haul Kit around. This was his older cousin, two years his senior and a couple of inches taller - they should be around a similar weight at the very least.

Kit leaned against him at once, happy to leech off Alistair’s warmth. He kicked off his boots when dumped on the bed, and started to peel off all of his layers. After tossing both of his coats aside, he gave up, flopping onto the covers with his jumper still on. “Can I have my good blanket?”

“Yeah, of course. Shouldn’t you take your jumper off first? You’ll be roasting.”

“No I won’t. I’m cold.” Kit mumbled, climbing under the blanket as soon as Alistair plugged it in.

“Fine, whatever. Do you want me to stay with you?” Alistair asked.

Kit nodded, reaching his arms out of his blanket. “Please?”

Alistair grinned, clambering onto the bed and rewrapping the blanket around them both. He teased his cousin about it, but Alistair actually really liked it when Kit blatantly asked for his help like that. Few people had ever really needed Alistair in his life, and it felt good to know that Kit did want him around. Now that he was both warm and comfortable, it didn’t take Kit long to drift back off to sleep, snoring into Alistair’s chest. The younger boy was effectively pinned, boiling hot and uncomfortable, but he sat where he was for Kit. He knew he needed sleep.

Back in the living room, Siofra had commandeered Kit’s credit card so she could continue searching for shoes online. She and Julius were looking at Julius’s laptop, twenty different tabs with various shops open, and Finny sitting at their feet. It took over an hour of shopping, but they eventually found a stunning pair of red satin shoes with intricate rose gold heels (not “rose gold” fabric, but actual metal). Siofra quickly clicked on the listing, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the price: ₤1550.

“Mary, mother’o whores! You could buy a beater car for that!” She yelled, nearly waking up Kit in the process.

Alistair couldn’t exactly yell out, so he sent Siofra a text: Keep your foghorn gob shut, Kit is sleeping.

I’ll shove my foghorn foot up your ass. Siofra messaged back, though she did quiet down, still staring at the screen in horror. “What the fuck…”

“Kit would buy those for you,” Julius said. “He’s always very generous. Sometimes he gets us takeaways without even asking. The good kind too, that comes in fancy packages instead of polystyrene.”

“I was gonna spend a couple hundred without feelin’ bad, but… shit. That’s a few months‘o rent.” Siofra sighed, tapping her nails on the sleek black credit card.

“His father does own an island though. And he’s not a very nice man. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over spending his money.”

Siofra pursed her lips, nodding thoughtfully. “Good point. I’m done feelin’ bad.” She added the shoes to her cart and clicked on the checkout.

#misadventures of Kit #chapter twenty-six #angst #drama of the big gay #kit #raycraft #siofra #rafferty #alistair #julius #ocsickficsideblog #collab

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mollymauk-teafleak · 8 years ago

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So!

You guys know my friend @minky-for-short, fantastic artist, brilliant writer and all round wonderful person and one of the lights of my life. Honestly, you know when there’s an artist on Tumblr you really admire and look up to because they’re just so talented and think you’d never be able to talk to them in a million billion years because they’re so cool? Jackie was that for me and the day I actually got my act together and talked to her was a Real Good Decision.

It’s @minky-for-short‘s birthday today soooo I wrote her a little present of a fic from her absolutely phenomenal Hamliza treasure hunter AU. It’s based off a piece of art she did for me thats honestly so stunning I could stare at it for hours and wonder why it isn’t hanging in the frigging MoMA. So enjoy!

It had the potential to drive people a little crazy, Eliza thought as she leaned against her older sister’s shoulder and felt the heat of the crackling fire, all this moving around. Being in so many different places with their own rules and their own way the air tasted and the sun rested on her lightly freckled shoulders. It could feel like being lost sometimes, as much as she adored this life and this job and every wild, wonderful corner of the world she was privileged enough to see.

Nothing was perfect, after all.

Eliza had learned to find her own constants, her own way of adapting and looking at what was around her so she’d still feel like herself no matter what blanket of stars she sat under. She’d learned that whether they were digging in the Sahara, sleeping in the shade of towering, pitted rock formations or crouched under tarpaulins to avoid the rain as they scoured Celtic ruins in the highest fringe of Scotland or sleeping on raised platforms to avoid whatever insects crawled through the mulch that passed for the ground under the vast canopies in the amazon, some things stayed the same.

Lafayette would always bemoan John’s attempt at making bouillabaisse whenever they were near the coast, to which John would cheerfully reply that he could either have it poured down his mouth or into any other hole in his body, his choice. Hercules would always go and buy a bracelet from the nearest local market to add to the brightly coloured collection that ran up his arms. Angelica would violently curse the whole scientific concept of humidity while wrapping her hair up in one of the brightly coloured scarves Eliza would make her for every birthday and Christmas. Maria would tell Peggy, exhaustedly, that no, it was not medically safe to mix the awful freeze dried coffee they had to drink on missions and crushed up energy pills, no it’s really not, give that here right now, it’s going in the river.

Some things would always stay the same and it was these rocks jutting up in the restless tide of her life that Eliza treasured.

She thought of them lazily that night, the heavy air pressing on her like comforting hands, her tongue still prickling excitedly with the spicy pottage Hercules had made for dinner, her eyes drinking in the shadows that writhed and pulsed with unseen life at the fringes of the campground’s light. Angelica turned and kissed her forehead as she moved away to go help Peggy, whose tent’s right side had caved in again, leaving Eliza blinking a little sleepily, chuckling fondly at her sisters.

And then there was warm skin brushing the back of her neck, making something that felt like electricity crackle through her. Alex’s fingers scraping against her as he wandered past where she sat, apparently on his way to his own tent, the most innocent and accidental of gestures but Eliza knew exactly what it meant. And as she turned just a little to look at him as he passed, she caught the slight glance he threw over his shoulder, the way the muscles under his shirt tensed and his gaze caught the firelight almost as if the flames were coming from the depths of his eyes rather than anywhere else.

Eliza could easily believe that it was.

She murmured something about going down to the river to get more water for the night, though no one was really listening to her. The tent disaster was absorbing the attentions of the rest of the team, either to help or to laugh their asses off, in John’s case.

Thank you, Peggy, Eliza thought with a wry smile as she got up, brushed the dust from her legs and made a subtle exit amidst the chaos.

The actual getting away part was never hard, not with this team.

Here was another constant Eliza had come to rely on. A fairly new one, one that still confused her and surprised her in a lot of ways but she clung to it, if anything, more fiercely than any other.

Alexander.

Eliza couldn’t even say herself where this had all come from. Why Alex had gotten under her skin so much when they first met, why every word out of his mouth had felt like a strike to an exposed nerve, why she’d been close to quitting the team altogether just to get away from him. She was even less sure why she’d suddenly realised that the strong feelings she’d always had from the first time she’d seen that wry smirk had actually been ones of attraction, desire, affection even. Why now no one could make her smile the way he did. Why she’d never had anyone make her writhe and scream and buck the way he did with nothing but his mouth. Why she kept hold of every shirt and pair of shorts he accidentally left in her tent, wearing them at night and getting so much comfort from his musky scent on the fabric.

Why she was here right now, sitting in the makeshift chair offered by two entwining branches of a low hanging jungle tree, surrounded by the fresh, aloe scent of its leaves, waiting for the man she used to think she despised.

Wonders would never cease.

Alex was never late; soon Eliza was pulled from her daydream by the gentle crunch of his boot soles on the wet earth like all her puzzling and calculating over him and whatever they had together was attracting him towards her like a beacon.

Forty paces northeast from the centre of the campfire. A flexible meeting place for their trysts to match the varying backgrounds they were given. Somehow, by some twist of luck’s fingers or small concession of the heavens, it was always beautiful.

“Evening.”

Eliza only opened her eyes and turned to see him when she could feel he was right up close, leaning on the tree branch she sat on. He was so light footed, moving like a jungle cat, for the relentless impatience of his mouth, the boy did know how to move silently if he wanted. But Eliza was starting to learn how to hear him coming.

“Hey there,” she smiled, unconsciously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Alex grinned, he had such a lovely way of doing that, so his eyes crinkled up at the edges and his teeth bared and his whole face looked so much more open and warm. A smile like the glare of a lighthouse cutting through the dark.

“So, glad your sister can’t pitch a tent for shit,” he mused, resting one hand on a lazy fist in such a casual manner, the manner of someone who had made such alien looking landscapes their home, “I was going a little crazy for you.”

Eliza’s cheeks warmed at his words. It had been a while since they’d had the opportunity to sneak away like this, it had been a hellishly busy job so far.

“For some sex, you mean?” she smiled wryly, pushing back so she could pretend it hadn’t affected her as much as it had.

“However, you want to think of it,” Alex shrugged, “I was trying to be nice…”

“You’ll have to try a little harder than that,” she chuckled, swinging her ankles, her feet just about grazing the floor.

He tilted his head, lips pursing, as if he was genuinely considering that to be a challenge.

“Come on then,” he motioned for her to follow him, ducking under the boughs and striding down the slope of the forest floor.

“Come on where?” she called, reluctant. It wasn’t like they’d had to make do with what they were given before, wasn’t like they were too proud to have sex up against a tree? Granted Alex had been left with some splinters in awkward places before, but she’d be gentle this time…

Alex snorted with laughter, spinning on his heels and holding his hand out to her, letting it hover there in the air.

“Schuyler, will you just trust me?” he smiled.

A simple enough question. Harder to answer. Best not to think about it too hard.

“Fine,” Eliza murmured, jumping down from the tree and sliding her hand into his.

She marvelled at how rough Alex’s palm was, at what felt like a scar running the whole length from between his third and fourth finger to his wrist. He marvelled at how soft hers were, in contrast to the old blisters on her writing fingers.

“I trust you,” she shrugged.

Eliza opened her mouth, her face crinkling in apprehension, twice on their short journey. Once when she first saw the yawning mouth of the small cavern tucked away in the erratic dips and rolls of the jungle, invisible until Alex pointed it out. The second when he disappeared inside and tried to pull her after him.

But each time Alex gave her a look and enigmatically waved her concerns away, reminding her of her own words.

Eliza was so, so glad she hadn’t wrenched her hand from his and took off, once she saw what he had found.

“Came across it on our first night here,” his voice bounced in the enclosed space, sounding like ten or twenty proud Alex’s chattering away by her ear, “An old lady in the village told me the area’s famous for underground waterfalls and streams so I spent Monday night finding one! Cool, right?”

Eliza blinked rapidly, still not convinced that what her eyes were showing her was reality. It just looked too damn perfect, it looked like something painted. The impossibly large space, jarring the perspective of what she’d seen up top, the walls of stone so dark and beaded with water, it looked like black diamond. Nothing but spotlights coming in from the regularly spaced holes in the soil ceiling, where roots and vines thick as Eliza’s forearm showed like bone in torn flesh. The immediate and intense damp in the air, easily traced back to the waterfall which ran from some cut in the wall and down into a pool of water so blue it couldn’t possibly be real and then from there on to god only knew where in the arteries and veins of the earth. And so many flowers. How could flowers grow underground? It made no sense but here they were, scattered in gaggles like finely dressed ladies at a party in gossipy clusters across the floor and running up the walls, breaking up the carpet of slick moss with bursts of colour.

How?

Eliza didn’t understand, finally able to tear her eyes away and look at Alex in sheer bewilderment, over where he was rocking almost coyly on his heels, a smile that could even be described as shy on his face.

“I thought you’d like it,” he noted the pleased flush of her face with satisfaction, “Thought it would be a nice place to spend an evening?”

Eliza felt something stir in her chest, shifting restlessly, maybe even hopefully behind her ribs.

He’d found this for her. To make her happy. And this wasn’t the kind of place for two friends to relieve tension, to fill the downtime on digs, to get rid of base needs. For two people just to have fun and nothing more.

There was something more pulsing in this quiet space, this piece of something too beautiful to exist. Part of Eliza knew exactly what that something was but a larger part of her didn’t want to say it, think it, admit to it.

That would be far too dangerous.

But maybe something like it could exist here? Eliza was confused but she knew she wanted that.

“Eliza?” Alex sounded worried, starting to think that maybe this wasn’t working it out as well as he’d hoped.

She turned to him, shaking whatever worries she had away. They had no place here.

“Thank you,” she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him firmly.

Alex couldn’t help a laugh bubbling up between their lips as he caught her by the hips and lifted her up, leaning into the kiss with enthusiasm. This was ground they both knew, a dance they both understood and recognised, slipped into eagerly. He could see his find had been a success.

Eliza ran her hands up under the black vest he wore, admiring how hot his skin was, he always seemed to run hotter than most people. It was hard for her not to think of him as the sun, with the heat and the life and the motion he’d brought to her life. She found his rapid heartbeat and pressed her face to it, feeling his fingers dig into her as her hands busied themselves raking long, red lines down his back, making him hiss and groan in delight.

“Eliza,” he gasped, shamelessly needy.

“I know,” she answered, knowing exactly what he meant, climbing down and setting to work.

She swept his vest up over his head, with a sharp, admiring intake of breath. Eliza would never not be struck by the sight of all her lover’s tattoos, the incredible complex twisting of designs and patterns that decorated both of his arms but also bled down his chest, joining and colliding beautifully in a clatter of different styles and symbols. They ended in a flower garden of violets blooming across the narrow triangle of his hips and his pubic bone, just about visible with the way his lose shorts hung off his body. Eliza felt a craving to see more so strong it was like every cell in her body was screaming for it. They were a new addition to his skin, he’d only had them done on a whim a few months ago on one of their brief furloughs in New York, apparently after one too many tequila shots with Laurens, but they were fast becoming Eliza’s favourite of all his ink.

Her fingers froze in the act of sliding Alex’s shorts down in order to see more of those carefully inked blossoms, done almost like watercolours in deep purple.

Her favourite flowers were violets. She’d told him that a while ago.

“Baby?” he frowned a little, seeing the way she stilled like the blood in her veins had solidified, “Eliza, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course not- “

“No,” she shook her head, finding her thoughts, “I’m okay, Alex, I promise.”

In the next second his shorts and boxers were pooled around his boots, the second after that, he was barefoot, the second after that and the headband was out of his hair, leaving it in a beautifully mussed tangle down to his shoulders that made a low whimper roll from Eliza’s lips as her hands skirted over it.

He gave her a genuine crooked smile, enjoying the look in her eyes as she studied his face.

“Are…are you going to get naked or are you going to spend all night staring at me?” he chuckled, blushing a little.

“Well that does sound tempting but I was thinking something more immediate,” Eliza smiled with affection, her hands moving to shed her own clothes.

They knew each other’s bodies so well by now, every inch, far better than Eliza would ever know the fondly tattered journals she carefully filled with detailed sketches of the artefacts they found and the ruins they countered, saving what scraps of ancient cultures she could find from the mouth of history; far better than Alex would ever know the sound of an enemy’s footsteps across sand, the way to rig up a shelter in the canopy of trees if you didn’t want to be found before dawn, than he knew to keep a small dagger under the inner sole of his boot because no enemy grunt or government checkpoint goon ever checked there.

So, Eliza knew Alex wanted to see her undress herself, to get to sit back and gaze longingly as she stripped off her clothes until she was bare and brazenly exposed to him, one hand brushing the curtain of her dark hair back from her face, the other trailing down her thigh. His expression made her heart beat faster.

“Take me,” her command was simple and soft, the words echoing in the grotto, again and again until Alex’s heart twisted with his need to fulfil her request.

He swept her up in his arms, tumbling her onto the moss, softer than any bed she’d ever lain on in her life. His mouth suddenly felt like it was everywhere at once, on her neck and along the soft line of her jaw, down the hollow of her throat, across her breasts, moving so fast she couldn’t follow, she could only gasp and pant as every brush of his lips on her skin sent heat coursing through her. The burning ghost of his lips lingered everywhere they touched until she was writhing, pulling him down, begging wordlessly for him, all of him.

But all Eliza got were his fingers, dipping between her legs teasingly, feeling how her flesh there burned and ached.

“You want me so badly, don’t you?” Alex sighed a little smugly, “God, you’re so wet…”

“Don’t be an ass,” she whined, biting at his earlobe, “Just fuck me.”

“Alright, alright,” he soothed, chuckling bemusedly, rearranging their tangled bodies so he could brace his hands on her shoulders, gazing down at her so beautifully laid out against the deep, alive green of this place, “I’ve got you, baby.”

And Eliza genuinely believed he did. He had more of her than either of them really knew.

For all he’d teased her, his own arousal was every bit as fierce, his erection pressing against her belly. He couldn’t help but shudder in relief as he shifted and squirmed until they were both in position and the very tip of him was pressed to her slick, almost silken skin.

“Oh…” he murmured, his jaw dropping, utterly lost in something so simple.

Eliza gave a small smile, drinking in his expression, “You gonna spend all night staring at me?” She echoed his words back at him with a warm pastiche of his sarcasm.

It earned her a lightheaded kind of giggle and the sensation of Alex’s whole length entering her, filling her until her back arched and her eyes widened, legs locking around his hips to anchor him, as if he had any intentions of doing anything but picking up his pace, pounding into her with a low growl of sheer want.

Eliza just gave herself over to him totally, letting her throat make its noises and her hips buck and roll as they needed to and her face twist and her hands cling to his shoulders desperately. Their moans ricocheted off the walls into some intense symphony of their voices as tangled and entwined as their bodies were. The cold fingers of mist from the waterfall were bliss on their burning skin, the scent of the flowers intoxicating, it all nearly too much. There were tears in Eliza’s eyes as she gasped and sank her teeth into Alex’s freckled shoulder with a high-pitched shriek; a sure sign she was close, she couldn’t hang on much longer.

Alex devoted himself utterly to bringing her to the finish, driving his hips with as much force as he can pull until she screams his name loud enough to bring his own orgasm crashing down on him suddenly and harshly he couldn’t even make a noise.

Alex had never liked coming down. There was always an emptiness to it, a worry that maybe nothing would ever be as good again, he’d never feel so complete and he’d always be chasing something he could never get back.

But not this time.

This time, as his brain pieced itself back together, he had Eliza’s arms around him. He had soft greenery underneath his back as he rolled over. He had her warm breath against his shoulder as she murmured thanks and her hands trailing across his chest in lazy, happy circles.

Every so often Alex would have what he considered to be strokes of genius. They were few and far between but when they hit they were always fucking great.

And here was one.

His hand disentangled itself from Eliza’s wild nest of hair and went roaming, searching through the soft moss until his long fingers closed around what was, by some stroke of luck, the biggest and most colourful maybe in the whole cavern, a beautiful array of sunset oranges and yellows. It somehow looked even more beautiful once he’d deftly woven it into Eliza’s hair, just behind her ear, once she was smiling so brightly it somehow matched the flower.

“Look,” he murmured in a raspy voice as they lay side by side on their backs, “You can see the stars.”

And sure enough, there were snatches of star studded fabric visible through the gaps and holes in the low ceiling, just a little but it was more than enough for them.

Eliza rested against his side, unable to believe how sweet this moment was.

It was true that nothing was perfect.

But some things came so, so close.

#hamliza #treasure hunter au #LOOK HOW TALENTED MY FRIEND IS #my friends are the best #love you jackie #<3

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divine-identite · 8 years ago

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RULES. repost, don’t reblog. tag ten. TAGGED. @thegreatunxter thank you Lari :) TAGGING. anyone else who wants to do this.

BASICS.

FULL NAME. Paddra-Ballad Caius, Caius Ballad NICKNAME. none AGE. 2,000+ BIRTHDAY. December 27th ♑ Capricorn ♑ (Capricorn Sun / Scorpio moon) ETHNIC GROUP. Indigenous/Aborginals/Paddran NATIONALITY. Pulsian LANGUAGE / S. canon: Pulsian ;New World: French, Italian, Russian God of Death: Nigh-omniscience SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Demiromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single (canon) / in a relationship (AU) CLASS. N/A HOME TOWN / AREA. Paddra CURRENT HOME. The New Unseen Realm PROFESSION. Seeress’s Guardian, God of Death

PHYSICAL.

HAIR. Long purple hair, goes down to her mid-back. Smooth with light purple tufts of hair. EYES. a vivid purple, almond-shaped. His eyes are normally sharp, stern, and intense usually some moments, which may intimidate some people who see them NOSE. Wide bridge but slender nostrils it's also tall and straight FACE. His face is kinda of square, prominent, strong jaw, open forehead, and subtle high cheekbones. LIPS. Full lips, the bottom is a bit more full COMPLEXION. tanned - earth tones mostly, smooth, and soft with some weathering. BLEMISHES. He has freckles when looked upon closely have lightened up over the years but are distinguishable under a keen eye SCARS. A few but they have faded possible or just non-existent due to the nature of the heart of chaos. TATTOOS. N/A HEIGHT. 6′4″ WEIGHT. 197 lbs BUILD. Athletic, slender FEATURES. My seem imposing, vivid purple hair ALLERGIES. N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE. Usually let down, held in place by his headband a large sweeping bang from the left. USUAL FACE LOOK. Stern, unmoved and confident, even seen smirking arrogantly. While it’s not rare nor is it a common occurence, her features tends to soften up when he’s around people such as Yeul USUAL CLOTHING. Armour made by Etro reverence of Bahamut

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S. Failure, in the past many perhaps not being personal worth. ASPIRATION / S. To end his and her suffering and free themselves from this accursed torment given by the Goddess Etro POSITIVE TRAITS. Determined, Persistent, Dutiful, Practical, Wise, NEGATIVE TRAITS. Apathetic/Callous, Dogged, Blunt, Manipulative, Merciless, Cruel, Nonsense, Dogged MBTI. LOGISTICIAN (ISTJ-A) ZODIAC. Capricorn TEMPEREMENT. Phlegmatic/ Choleric SOUL TYPE / S. Hunter/ Caregiver ANIMALS. Sable VICE HABIT / S. N/A FAITH. Agnostic GHOSTS? Yes AFTERLIFE? Yes REINCARNATION? He has none ALIENS? No. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT. N/A ECONOMIC PREFERENCE. N/A SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION. EDUCATION LEVEL. Home-schooled

FAMILY.

FATHER. N/A MOTHER. N/A SIBLINGS. N/A EXTENDED FAMILY. N/A NAME MEANING / S. Caius is classical and serious but also has a simple, joyful quality. There was a third century pope named Caius, as well as an early Christian writer, several Shakespearean characters, and a Twilight vampire. We would pronounce the name to rhyme with eye-us though at Cambridge University in England, where it's the name of a college, it's pronounced keys. Caius is currently Number 164 on Nameberry.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? N/A

FAVOURITES.

BOOK. N/A MOVIE. N/A 5 SONGS. “ Heavy” - Florence + The Machine, “Caius Theme” - Final Fantasy XIII-2 “Oblivion“ - Bastille Sun and Steel” - Audiomachine “ Dawn ” - Skyrim DEITY. N/A HOLIDAY. N/A MONTH. November, December SEASON. Fall, Winter PLACE. Paddra WEATHER. Fair temperatures, little humidity, weather with slight forecast SOUND. Rainfall, night-time cricket ambience, the night, THE QUIET SCENT / S. like night, like fresh after a rain storm night. Coupled with a bit of sea water, jasmine, metal and earthy tones. TASTE / S. Salt, Honey FEEL / S. Leather, animal hide, scales ANIMAL / S. Bahamut NUMBER. N/A COLOUR. Green

EXTRA.

TALENTS. Piano, creating metal sculpture art BAD AT. Critical, Self-Expressing, Fastidious, Judgemental, Conservative, Apathetic TURN ONS. An interesting personality, a good rival, determination, passion, being vigilant and perhaps just someone battling the odds. TURN OFFS. Ignorance, constant nonsense, terrible personality, invading personal space, Weakness HOBBIES. Reading, taking long walks, training, stargazing TROPES. Papa Wolf: Seriously, do not mess with Yeul when he's around. That includes you, universe and you too, Etro. AESTHETIC TAGS. Moon, rain, mountains, forests, charcoal, feathers, leather, time, Fog GPOY QUOTES. “ Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final. .” - Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S. N/A ALT FC / S. N/A OLDER FC / S. N/A YOUNGER FC / S. N/A VOICE CLAIM / S. Liam’ O Bren

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1. if you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1. Walk to Oblvion - that explores the boundaries of morality between what is typically good and evil, and understand what is truly human in character in our core. I think perhaps a western movie or a high fantasy movie which Caius cause’s destruction for a greater purpose.

Q2. what would their soundtrack / score sound like? A2. Oh, boy I say Dawn - Jeremy Soule, Skyrim.

Q3. why did you start writing this character? A3. From long story to short, it started when I was in yoga class when Book 4 was still airing. My muse for her came out of nowhere and I told myself the feeling is going to go away, but that night…I ended up making a blog for her. And here I am now.

Q4. what first attracted you to this character? A4. Oh boy, this is a long explanation you’re demanding from me lol but I’ll bite. Well to star,t I picked up Caius out of curiosity and perhaps chance, I originally wanted to do Noctis - but Tumblr was so oversaturated with Noctis that I didn't want to be a clone. So, I had to go through the “fishing for a muse” phase. I roleplayed a bit as Riku from KH , Kefka from FF6 and thus Caius. Now I chose Caius because from what I was told usually people pick him up and drop him like a dime - it sounded like a role I could take to see how it went since he was my first villain (at that point was a bit insecure at the time ) At first, I was unsure if I would be good with him when I went on a massive study on him, he was this compelling villain and seem always to have a recognisable appearance which i was worried I would not master or convey into my other rps. Later, I learned he was the most human of all final fantasy characters out there; with him wanting to destroy time for just one person, which other final fantasy 13 character such as Lightning, Fang wanted cocoon destroyed just to save those they loved and that kind of drew in more the more I realised it; the whole grey spectrum and his personality I could just connect with it off the bat ( I don’t know something about stoic attitude that always kinda makes me want to roleplay them so well and it always works for me, funny as it was since I used to RP Cloud Strife back on myspace). Though I think me and Caius have many differences we do have many similarities which made me fancy the character and got me to portray him to this level where. It’s perhaps easy to know So, I guess you can say I roleplayed him as a mistake?

Q5. describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5. Being cryptic and generally just being callous so many things that some people would be, pretty much an asshole to people and his unfiltered honesty. Not being expressive

Q6. what do you have in common with your muse? A6. quite blunt lol and down to earth actually, i guess being practical at least.

Q7. how does your muse feel about you? A7. cool dood just needs to lighten the fuck up sometimes and be less blunt and callous, he would make a lot of friends if he did that.

Q8. what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8. Kuvira (Avatar. Legend of Korra), Alex Benedetto (Gangsta), i think mostly Moana (Disney’s Moana), Fang ( Final Fantasy XIII trilogy), Kuja (Final Fantasy IX)

Q9. what gives you the inspiration to write your muse? A9. SE not fleshing out Caius, a lot of gothic horror pieces of literature, Lovecraft and Poe to flesh out his emotional states in some of my rps and what not. To expound upon such an amazing character is an honour and give my perspective on certain events, ones even sensitive, that have shaped his bleak future which he woefully remembers most of his life.

Q10. how long did this take you to complete?

Like a week lol because I was so on and off and doing multiple things

#headcanons: █ ▌◆ ❝ Sleepsong ❞#headcanon: █ ▌❝ poet ❞

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