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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death



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Fri Mar 17, 2023 9:31 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 28 - Monty's Past Life Interlude - 1.2 - 1058 words

“What reason do you think I would imagine for you would not attending this party? Aside from your complete distaste for social functions and that I could have sworn you were already living in the western territory?”
Monty, confident that Oisean was steady on his feet, returned to the miniature bar display that sat by the window. His hands glossed over the different bottles as he tried to decide which poison to pick. He poured a stiff drink for the other man. Taking a quick glance around the room, he found Oisean sitting on a stuffed couch, licking his wounds in at least a metaphorical sense.
“I suppose I can’t blame you for thinking that I had already moved on. I am heading that way, at the end of this week, but I was brought up here to enjoy a celebration first.”
He held out his hand with the drinking vessel in hand and waited until Oisean’s fingers were wrapped firmly. Their skin touched in a brief moment of heat. Monty tried to ignore the feeling. Even as he seated himself beside Oisean on the couch and found that the material also held heat.
Taking a few sips first, likely to steady his nerves, Oisean soon said, “Yes, I suppose you can’t blame me. Especially not when you sent off the trunks with the remainder of your belongings nearly two weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t come for them myself, my dear, but I did not imagine that you would want me around. Not with the goodbye that you initially gave to me when I tried to exit your home.”
Oisean shifted in his seat, slowly moving so he could lean his head against Monty’s shoulder. A few months ago…
Well, a few months ago, Monty would not have been able to sit in the same room as Oisean. Much less let the man lay against him. No matter if it had been an attempt to keep from dying of the cold out in the wilderness. He would have willing let the young diplomat slowly freeze in the elements rather than allow themselves to touch once more.
“I’m so sorry, Monty. I should have taken much more care.”
A sudden dampness began to form on Monty’s coat sleeve. Right in the position of his former companions resting forehead. He allowed himself to gently raise Oisean by his chin and kiss the wrinkled forehead.
“It’s alright, my dear.”
“It’s not alright. I shouldn’t have treated you in such a way. Any of the ways in which I did anything to you.”
It wasn’t alright.
Of course that was a detail of which he was aware. It was not alright to watch your partner slowly lose interest in you because he has become distracted by his work. The offer of being a diplomat was promised as an opportunity to proceed both of their careers, but now it had led to Monty having to start over entirely.
“I know why you did those things to me, Oisean. You wince away at me as if you hurt me physically.”
“I did hurt you. I know - you know - not physically. The hurt I gave you was so much more worse.”
To Monty, that was the worst part of the entire debacle. It wasn’t that his partner had given up his attention on the basis of a more attractive person. Before this moment, he didn’t believe that Oisean could understand that mental trauma could be far much worse than any physical strike upon the body. These were matters more left to the big thinkers. And Oisean had rarely been accused of being a philosopher.
“It will all be alright now, my dear. You won’t have to worry anymore about the hurt once this weekend is over,” Monty soothed, fingers moving in a clean stroke from Oisean’s temple and down through to his lower back. The other man relaxed under his touches. He felt the other weight pushing him into their shared couch and he was surprised as he allowed it to happen.
Though he hadn’t missed much from their time away from each other, this was a welcome return. Their were nestled together in their historical positions. If this event had taken place in bed, then Monty would have likely found himself in his usual upper position. All while delivering a package that had been lost in the postal service for several months now.
They weren’t at that point in time though. No bed was in sight. Only the haggard rise and fall of Oisean’s chest as his choked up sobs continued to soak through Monty’s clothing. He let the silence do half of the work of the soothing as his hands began to stiffen.
What were the appropriate words to say to a former lover who has found themselves back in your hands? It was not an answer that Monty could ponder on. Before this relationship, he had rarely felt the same man’s body under him more than once. Mr. Magill, his father, had not been a man built for relationships, and Monty had found himself to be one in a similar position.
Out of the silence, Oisean suddenly spoke, asking, “What if I don’t want to stop worrying? What if I want to keep worrying about you?”
Monty shifted himself upwards so that they were meeting eye to eye. This position left them with the other man straddling him as if he had mounted into a side saddle. To be far too polite about the whole matter, it meant that certain things were rubbing against each other.
He lifted up his hand once more to stroke Oisean’s hair, but drew it back in surprise when the other man recoiled. Instead, with his lips, he pressed another gentle kiss on the man’s increasingly creased forehead. This time, he whispered, “You shouldn’t be saying things like that when you’re not in your right mind.”
“Montgomery-”
Oisean paused after calling out his name. It was an unspoken trust between them that Monty’s real name would be only named in the most serious of instances. The voice that had called that name was nothing like the man who had sat idly on the couch while he removed himself from their lodgings.
Perhaps something had changed, but Monty couldn’t base his entire future on senseless ponderings.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sat Mar 25, 2023 7:28 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 29 - Monty's Past Life Interlude - 1.3 - 1069 words

“Oisean, pet, what have we said about people using my name? Don’t you remember what happened to the last man who called me by my Christian name?”
At this, Oisean began to giggle, joining in Monty’s good humor about his distaste for his given name. The other man couldn’t turn his eyes to face Monty’s stern expression. He was burrowing himself further into the folds of Monty’s warm embrace while consumed with his laughter. Monty grabbed at his shoulders, switching their positions on the sofa so he was leaning down over his former partner.
Oisean continued with his humor and his lack of eye contact with Monty. It brought Monty a certain amount of joy to see the other man smiling. Truly smiling in ways that he hadn’t done since the first days of their friendship at the university. The times when Monty was entranced by the law and Briggy ever amused by the tactics of the Spartans. They had been absolute opposites from the first day that they had collided in a bustling hallway.
“I don’t remember what happened to the last man, but I do remember you punching the light of life out of that boxing fellow at Oxford.”
He stretched out one shaky hand to take Monty’s hand in his own, bringing the knuckles to his lips. Oisean’s tongue passed over the long established callouses. Unmistakable signs of all that Monty had used his hands. A more inquisitive man might even be able to determine which pattern of callouses was associated with each rigorous activity.
“I seem to remember that the entire reason I went in with force with that man was because young Mr. Bridger had been unable to control his wicked tongue.”
“Oh, Monty, you’re purposely making that sound so much more worse than it was. You know my so called wicked tongue has only belonged to you since the day that we found each other.”
In a split second, Monty nearly gave into the temptation of leaning down to steal a kiss from Oisean. It had alway been acceptable to call that man by his given name. He had a well known and overall comfort level with his given name that its public usage no longer drew looks of concern. For all that other cities of the world claimed to be modern, Norfolk and New York had been the only places he had walked with Oisean without feeling eyes piercing into his person.
He used those thoughts of peace to distract himself from his temptation and smiled again as he brought up another humorous question. Monty lifted himself off of Oisean, putting some distance between before asking, “You mean collided into each other?”
Monty realized as he was saying this that those were the exact same words he had spoken in his mind just a few moments before. It was incredible, he guessed, that he always thought of their first meeting in the exact same way. In a manner that someone might expect for a rehearsed testimony under duress or the way a holy man works at memorizing particularly brilliant word choice for a sermon.
“Yes, collided. That brilliant word that you love to use to show off the majesty that is your curious mind.”
Oisean closed back up the distance between them. He brought his steadier hand to run through Monty’s curly locks and stole away the kiss that they had both been avoiding. Guilt ran through the depths of Monty’s soul as he found himself overrun with the pleasure of the touch that he had missed so much. In an attempt to turn the other man away from me, he bit Oisean’s bottom lip, knowing how much the other man hated the loving nips that many others would have fainted over. The only thing that his former partner might have fainted over was the sight of his own blood if Monty were to bite down hard enough.
To Monty’s surprise, Oisean’s response to the bite was to deepen the kiss. Evidently someone had changed in his preferences during their short separation. Monty allowed it to continue until a certain amount of his senses returned to his love-possessed corpse. He pulled away with force, pushing Oisean back onto the couch, jumping to his feet, and wiping away the remains of their shared saliva.
“You shouldn’t have done that, pet.”
He kept his stance faced towards the window. Monty lifted another clean glass from the shelf and poured himself a fresh drink. His hands shook as he attempted to steady his nerves, suddenly feeling far more sympathy for Oisean’s nervous condition.
The nervousness was gone from his companion’s voice as he asked, “Done what?”
Monty turned back to see the smile notable that he had expected to accompany such a statement. He watched as Oisean rose from the couch and crossed the room to meet with him. Still keeping some of his restraint, Monty attempted to explain the meaning of his statement.
“You shouldn’t have kissed me in general, but you definitely shouldn’t have kissed me like that while we were in a public space.”
He didn’t mind that Oisean was shortening the distance between them. Further, he didn’t mind when his former partner took another kiss from him. Monty knew how this night would end. It would be them tangled in the sheets, drifting in and out of sleep. Exchanging tenderness until the guilt took back over Monty’s soul so that he might gather his horses, cart, and head onto his journey in the wilderness.
For now, for this single moment, he could enjoy his final night of pleasure with a man that had held his attention for so long.
“Do you remember what happened with that boxer that you so bravely defended me from, Monty?”
Oisean wrapped his arms around Monty’s waist, looking down on him with soft, loving eyes. That was the look that had won him over so many times in the past.
“I seem to remember that he went on to be quite a brilliant academic and gave up on his prospects of being a brilliant boxer.”
An entrancing laugh rose out of the other man’s chest. It was just another sign that Monty should enjoy the time for as long as he could make it last.
“It was surely a mystery how he maintained his sanity as a philosophy student after that blow you gave to him.”

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sat Apr 01, 2023 1:16 am
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Brigadier says...



Week 30 - Haller's Perspective - 8.1 - 1047 words

By some small measure of mercy from the universe, Lord Hagstein chose to stay only for a brief enjoyment of tea. They spoke little of his outburst as the two men sipped at the gently brewed tea. The specific variety came from a collection that Haller had received as partial payment for a set of drawers. For mostly that reason, they had an interest in making it last for as long as they possibly could.
The other reason, much slighter than the financial motives, was more of a feeling that anything else. In the time since they had begun to recall their past life, they were drawn more and more to curious things. One of such interest was a journey to find a tea that filled their stomach with just the right feeling. That was the matter that had brought them across the import man in Norfolk with a shop filled with the most exotic variety of food stuffs.
This tea, they could tell, was not quite right. It was not the feeling of completion that a young man might have felt in childhood. More, it was not a replacement of the feeling of comfort that their younger self must have felt when held in the arms of a parent. They knew that the beverage they were seeking had come from the earliest time of their life.
It was not something that they could explain. It was just something that they knew. To them, even with all that they had endured as a reaper, it seemed that it would just be natural to remember the moments from the happiest times of their life.
There were many pieces of their life that they had managed to determine on the basis of logic. In much the way a man who had over consumed his drink would try to recall the events of the night before. It sometimes took the call of an investigator to understand what had happened to oneself under the cloud. Haller had rarely found themself in a situation where their senses were overwhelmed, but they and Monty had witnessed many such instances in their favorite tavern.
The first piece of the peculiar investigation of their soul came when they took a guess at the length of their life. They imagined that as a non-human being, they had likely lived a much longer span than even most humanoids. Their journey across the universe had revealed beings that lived for hundreds, even thousands of years. Some even might as well have been ageless from the expanse of their experiences.
Haller knew they must have originally lived the lifetime of at least a dozen men based on the different memories that shone through. Instances of them in different stages of life and far reaching feelings of emotion. Enough memories they had recalled in just one night that might have filled up the life of just one man. The lifetimes they had lived as a reaper were at least one thousand, but those times meant very little to them.
With each day that passed in their eternal lifetime, they found themself to grow more tired of their existence. Being a reaper, being a guardian, or being whatever else the universe would come to expect of them.
There was something much more important for them to concern them with now - Monty.
They loved Monty. They knew they did. They were fairly sure that Monty returned the feeling. No matter the mad dash that their dove had taken from the shop after they finished the corset lacing. As they collected the tea dishes and made their way to their office, they could not help but to examine all of the teas that they had shared with Monty. All of the moments where they were attempting to be friends even though they both knew what they had desired from the very moment they met. No, more likely that desire came from the glances they were exchanging on that fateful evening.
Until they had found Monty in this place, this world, love had not been in the picture for them. Particularly in the case of successfully seducing someone for the purpose of more than fleeting, mutual pleasure. Under the guise of a well known soldier, a bachelor struck on the fields of loneliness, they had sometimes sought short term companionship. The sort that some men would seek in times of war when they could excuse a certain amount of contact through a fraternal need.
Their loving embraces with Monty were no fraternal need. They were more akin to the glorious matrimony that so many of their human soldiers had complained of on those same battlefields. Haller must have been one of the lucky few in the universe who thought they would enjoy marriage beyond the first evening.
According to their own memories reclaimed through the dreamworld, this was not the first time that Haller had accomplished such a feat of love. Though it was hard to believe that they, a prince of awkwardness, could have done such a thing.
Perhaps they would find more answers if they were to return to their dreams. They assured themself with this thought as they reclined on the couch in the hall near their office. Haller rearranged the stuffing of one pillow and fell quickly into a deep sleep. They soon found themself wandering through tangled memories of joy and happiness. Sorrow and pleasure. The best of the best and the worst of the worst, but still only with clouded figures of what once was and who they once had known.
The dreams only stopped when Haller realized that someone was leaning down over them. They moved not a muscle, fearing for some sort of hostile detection. The presence above them proved not to be hostile though as the someone’s lips caressed Haller’s forehead. Their eyelids fluttered open to meet Monty’s own beautiful eyes staring into their own.
“There you are, my love. I dared not to wake you when I first came in, but I could not stand to watch the violent nature of your sleep.”
Haller reached out a hand to take Monty’s in their own, quietly saying, “Never apologize for waking me, my dove. Never feel sorry for making me aware of your beautiful presence.”

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sat Apr 01, 2023 1:39 am
BluesClues says...



“There you are, my love. I dared not to wake you when I first came in, but I could not stand to watch the violent nature of your sleep.”


Okay now see when one of my Sims is asleep, how come it's not an option for the other one to gently stand over them in case of bad dreams??
  





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Sat Apr 01, 2023 6:28 pm
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues because none of your sims are a Scottish lawyer in love with a space prince?

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sat Apr 01, 2023 8:56 pm
BluesClues says...



...that might be at least part of it, guess I know what Sims I'm creating next--
  





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Sat Apr 01, 2023 10:12 pm
Brigadier says...



@BluesClues which one?
The Scottish lawyer? Welsh politician? Space prince? Hot ex husband of space prince? Any other sidekicks that come up during LMS blizzard?

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 02, 2023 2:35 am
BluesClues says...



Brigadier wrote:@BluesClues which one?
The Scottish lawyer? Welsh politician? Space prince? Hot ex husband of space prince? Any other sidekicks that come up during LMS blizzard?


Yes
  





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Sun Apr 02, 2023 5:18 pm
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues You will be satisfied with the way this story ends. Hot space prince and all.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 09, 2023 8:09 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 31 - Split Perspective - 8.2 - 1037 words

Monty moved his lips from Haller’s forehead to their lips, taking a gentle kiss and tasting the remnant flavors of tea. His brief absence from the shop - his brief altercation - had left him with an overwhelming desire to be held by Hal. Though he bore no mark of the fight, much the different from poor old Lawrence, he still felt wounded in some way. That by being put before that jury of men of his peers meant that he now had a new judgment to face.
Such a judgment, he briefly thought to himself, that a man of his career should be used to by now. At Oxford, his preferences and lifestyles had been no real problem. Nor had it been a problem in the regiment when he attended dinners with a good friend. Particularly not when that good friend was a cousin (though implied to be a half brother) of the regiment’s own commander.
Monty had long endured the casual judgments that had come with having a higher position in life. Now, though he admittedly did still have some position, he relished in the feeling of having no eyes upon him. None but the beautiful piercing eyes of his lover-
“Is that all I am to you, Montgomery? A lover? A casual roll about in the stable bedding?”
“How did you know what I was thinking, Hal?”
The reaper, who had been intently listening to Monty’s thoughts of judgment, realized very suddenly what they had said. That they had revealed their little trick of eavesdropping upon the thoughts of humans. An action, and its realization, that sent a wave of panic through them.
They felt themself, their essence, briefly fading from view. It was making an attempt to retreat into the shell of its earthly form. For all of the efforts they had made to rebuild their shaking confidence after Monty’s brief exit, they now knew that the doubt was too much.
“Haller, come back to me. Don’t you dare have an attack on me. Just as you were doing something interesting.”
The gentle hands that had been on them a few minutes before were engaged in a very different sort of tactile action now. Monty was shaking at their shoulders, speaking to them. No, it was rather that their partner was begging them to do something, but they could not determine the words over the roar of their mind.
A memory - a very early memory - chose then as the moment to push itself upon their wretched mind. It bore into their skull like someone was pushing a hot poker through one of their eye sockets. Haller knew that they must be outwardly screaming, but it was not an action that they could control. It alarmed them to think of how Monty must be completely and utterly shocked at whatever their physical form was now choosing to do.
Strong arms held them now. They could tell not if the sensation were a memory or a current action or some intersection of the two. If it were a present feeling, then that might mean that Monty had not left their bedside. That he had the strength to stay by the bedside of a very sick man who had no idea what to do with themself.
The thought of Monty comforting them was enough to bring some sense of peace to their mind. Even it was not yet enough to draw them out of the trance of endless battlefields being displayed before their tightly sealed eyes. If it were not for the differently colored trees that dotted along the landscapes, then Haller would have sworn they were simply witnessing a battle upon the Earth.
The violence.
The sickness.
Their sickness at the violence.
It was that last feeling, their own sickness, that drew them out of the consuming hole of reclaimed memories. The room gradually came back to them as they reestablished their spirit into its physical housing. Coming in last to their conscientiousness was Monty, arms gripped tightly around their waist, and speaking their true name. A name that they had barely even heard in the memories, much less from another living being, for a hundred millennia.
The soft voice touched into the far edges of their brain, lovely as it whispered, “Roque. Roque. My dear, lovely dove. You are safe for as long as I hold you in my arms.”
Haller, against their nature displayed in the memory, made no effort to escape the grasp that the other had upon their body. They let themself be held. To be comforted and to soothed. They let it continue on until they felt themself sane enough to ask a question appropriate of a gentleman.
“How did you know my name?”
Careful fingers brushed through their tangled locks of graying black hair. That was another changing physical feature that they had come to notice in their ongoing attachment to Monty. It seemed, again for the first time in many a millennia, that they showed some signs of their soul aging. In the same way that they had felt their soul, their thoughts, ever connected to the man as they continued to touch in the cosmos.
“How did you know the thoughts which I held about you?”
Their lawyer asked his appropriately gentleman’s question, smirk spreading across his face as he must be putting together all of the pieces of the morning’s mystery. Haller was truly further sinking under a spell with each continuation of their partner’s touch. If their conversation with Hagstein had any indication to give, it would be that they deeply desired to possess a hand in marriage that the times would not allow.
Haller looked up at the eyes that watched them, attempting to determine what happened while they slept. In a few more moments of turning of gears, a thought came to Haller and produced another relevant question.
“Did I speak it when I collapsed into my spell?”
“Yes, yes you did. Your collapse quite shocked me, at first, but I hope you know that I would never voluntarily leave your side. The forces of this universe would have to pry me from your side if they desired me to be gone from my love.”

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 16, 2023 11:13 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 32 - Haller - 8.3 - 1078 words

Haller had little idea how to sort the thoughts that were emerging inside their mind. They tried to bring themself up from the couch, with Monty’s helping hands beneath their arms, but they could not escape the burning pain in their side. The torturous poker had moved from their eye socket to a sensitive spot deep within their stomach. However, it had not ceased its motion of turning against whatever tissue it was affecting.
In all convention of logic, Haller knew that they were experiencing some extraordinary effect of a psychic attack. It was not as if their eternal enemies had really come to this one physical time point and were all stabbing them at once. That just wasn’t something that was likely to happen. Nor would be the sudden invisibility of every single criminal that they had chased across the multiple universes.
Still, that notion of what was logical and what was not was not enough to stop them from crying out in pain. Perhaps, as a part of their own negligence or paranoia, it was their fault that this pain had come to them in the exact moment when they began to enjoy happiness.
One hundred thousand years they had lived without the desire to possess a man for more than one night at a time. How many men had they had in all of that time? In all of the battlefields where they had masqueraded themself as some being that was not their true self? Their trips around the universe may have been described by a human of a future time as many trips around a city square.
“Come along, my love. Let me take you up to your bed.”
Haller had no control of their limbs as Monty carried them from the sofa up the flight of stairs and delivered them into the soft tangle of blankets. In all that had happened during the night before, and the rather hysterical morning, they had not yet had a chance to fix the state of their rooms. They even gave some small thought to how horrendous their office must still look.
On a normal day, one that did not involve burning pokers or carnal desires or a need to propose a marriage, then the office would have held more of a priority for Haller. If there had not been the welcoming feeling of someone arranging the sheets around them. Or if there had not been the further pleasure of Monty sliding into the bed beside them. And the office definitely would have been their first priority if their lover was not placing a damp washcloth to their forehead, lips moving slowly down their neck and across their chest.
“I know you cannot speak, Haller, and I know that you can barely move.”
Monty’s hands gently spread across their chest. They were entirely comforted by the feeling of being pushed into the mattress. Being politely requested by their partner to remain still and having absolutely nothing requested of them was a pleasure they had not known before. Even if their silence had not been involuntary, they imagined that they would not have been speaking very much under these circumstances.
“I do not know what is wrong with you, nor can I begin to imagine the immense pain that you are experiencing.”
This Monty said as he placed one more gentle kiss below Haller’s chin. The multiple feelings of pleasure left their skin as the hands and lips were removed. They felt themself lifted, their entire body this time - not just their spirit, when Monty positioned a number of pillows under their neck and shoulders.
“I am going to go to fetch you some of your favorite herbal tea and you are going to remain in your resting position until I return.”
Thinking back on the experiences they had had before this point, it was absolutely incredible how hard they had fallen for Montgomery. The fabled fall from grace that might have been expected from a better known divine being. Though they had rarely spent any time in any environment that might be called heavenly, they knew that they were still concerned to be a being of that sorts.
Their attraction, their rather limited attraction, was unlike that of other beings similar to themself. Many of those whom were similar to them, in at least lifespan, had very few limitations to the way they spent their time. They had certainly never felt a desire towards a woman.
Feminine - yes.
It was important for Haller to make this distinction between the woman and the display of femininity. In the brief moments, when they could recall things other than traumas from their history, they knew that the human misunderstanding of these displays was not singular. They had seen both the grand issues and the grand acceptance in their many travels across the expanse. And they had found themself, as they had once said to Monty, to be mostly a great appreciator of grand beauty.
Even if that weren’t spoken by their collection of paraphernalia related to femininity. It had been most refreshing, as well as completely surprising, when Monty had showed few questions in response to their collection. Disguise had never been required as part of their own operations, but it had often been used by their past associates. On the battlefield, in the consulate, and regularly in the bedroom.
Despite the pain in their stomach, they were finding themself to be completely relaxed for as long as they focused on their lover. It must be a sign of the changing tides - the pleasantly changing tides - that they could focus matters beyond their questionable mortality. Having this otherness, this love, to focus on was bringing them joy that the mortal man could not being to imagine.
Not even the hedonistic George Hagstein.
They heard the familiar creaking on the stairs. It was soon followed by the gentling jostling of one of their teacup collections and the curtain being pushed and pulled in the entryway. It was clear, from the delay, that their partner had likely stopped to observe the mess that was already resting so heavily on the reaper’s meticulous mind.
Returning to their bedroom with a tray of tea, Monty set it down on the marble table before saying, “I know this is a rather bad time to be commenting on the issue, but do you want me to do anything about the mess of clothes in your office?”

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 23, 2023 7:56 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 33 - Haller - 8.4 - 1154 words

Haller smiled, holding back their laughter and embarrassment over the state of their office. So much had happened in the past sum of hours that it really only bothered them to think of the mess if it would also bother Monty. They knew it must be shocking to someone who was only acquainted with the entirely put together Haller. Likely less shocking to Monty now that he had seen the Haller who had been ripped apart at the seams.
Finding their voice amid the burdensome weight pressing ever further on their chest, they lightly laughed as they said, “I had rather hoped to have that cleaned up before you returned from your sojourn to the middle of the street?”
Their voice trailed off, attempting to ask the question that had been coursing through their mind from the moment the door slammed. Really, from the exact moment when they regretted not running through the door after their beloved and grabbing him in the street. For not gripping Monty by the shoulders, sitting him back down upon the padded stool, and showing him how much love Haller had for him.
Regret.
It was such an incredible feeling. Not unique to the human population, but a well known emotion among humans. Haller had rarely felt any sense of regret or remorse for any of their actions within their current lifetime. But if Monty had not walked back through that door, even for as much later as it had been, Haller doubted that they would have been able to live with themself. It would have likely been the first time in history that a reaper had ever attempted to reap its own soul.
“About my short trip into town…”
Monty was carefully distributing their tea as he began to speak. It was a wonderful bit of domesticity to find a man who was so skilled that he displayed elegance in transferring a liquid from one container to another. On other planets, in other times, Haller could recall such an act being provided as a service in more risqué types of commerce.
“What happened, my dove?”
“Do you remember our talks about our past relationships? Of you having none and me having just the one long term instance?”
To be entirely fair to themself, at the times when they were discussing their past lives, Haller had little memory of the period for which they had been married. As they had explained to Monty on many occasions, over those first sit down luncheons in the tavern, they had enjoyed the life of a respectable bachelor. Their long career in the military had allowed for no scrutiny when they found themself in close company with a variety of men.
The more important detail to come from those conversations was that Monty was only a recent bachelor. As much as five or six years of singularity can be called recent. There had been, before the western territory and before Haller, another man. A quite distinguished man who had been so well respected in Norfolk that Monty could not stand to be within a hundred miles of him. A reputation for respect that carried so well that Haller could hear people making remarks about it in the stable yard.
“I remember you telling me how you had such a terrible experience with Lord Bridger that you took it upon yourself to move all the way to the western territory. Does whatever happened in the street concern him in some manner?”
It was no secret, at least to Monty, the contempt that Haller held for Lord Oisean Bridger. They had never yet had the unpleasure to come across the man who had caused so much pain to their dear love. The thought of Bridger being in this territory made the blood in their veins threaten to burn itself out of their form.
None of this reached the surface though. Instead, they remained entirely composed as they waited on whatever answer Monty may give to them. They did not let a single emotion show, beyond an attempt at concern, while their thoughts floated to the worst possible scenarios.
Finally, after a soft clinking of tea cups being placed back on their tray, Monty said, “We will be attending a party at his house in Norfolk in a few weeks time as a celebration of the Hallows holiday. Will you have a problem with being my date for that evening?”
Monty gave a sharp intake of breath as they slid off the bed to move the tray to a more secure location. Haller watched in pain as he bent over the table, stifling a groan, but giving a slight shriek as his legs lost their support.
“Monty, do you still have that corset on?”
Haller ran their hand across their lover’s chest, feeling for the notable ribbing of the garment. They were completely unsurprised to find that Monty was still wearing the piece seeing as he had not been in the company of anyone that would have been able to remove it. He looked down at his own chest just then, hand at the top of the corset clutching his breast, and said quietly, “Yes, I suppose I do still have it on. It quite slipped my mind in all that has happened since I left, but it is, admittedly, getting a bit uncomfortable for me.”
The growing concern for what the garment might be doing to their lover’s careful form drew them enough out of their stupor to attend to the issue. Haller placed one palm under Monty’s cheek, cupping the tender tissue as they undid the fasteners on the fine material. They could hear the audible gasp of relief as they released their lover from the confines of their garments.
If they could continue to hear that sound for every moment for the rest of their life…Well then they might be able to understand the fulfilled life that so many that they have reaped have said to have at the moment of death.
“Let us recline now, Monty. With the days that we have each had, there is no need for us to attend our usual luncheon.”
“What of the police? And of their questions?”
To be entirely frank with the proceedings of the universe, Haller had entirely forgotten that they were being investigated under a suspicion of murder. Too much had happened to them just in the past half rotation of the hour for them to be too concerned with the concerns of Earthen detectives.
Though it would be generous to even call the time mid-day, Haller found themself increasingly tired with each moment they spent being cradled by their love. Perhaps it was that the one hundred thousand years of burning both ends of the candle had finally managed to catch up with them. The stars knew that those devils had long tried to drive them off the cliff of exhaustion.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 30, 2023 7:18 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 34 - Lagrain - 9.1 - 1036 words

“Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence, LAWRENCE!”
Lagrain often found him shouting the name of his alias amid his frustrations with his current mission.
Well, perhaps mission was not the best word. It wasn’t as if he was currently employed or on Earth by the wishes of any galactic agency. Certainly not on the will of those who controlled the reapers. They wanted beings like Haller to be on that planet to manage the flow of the bloodshed. There was no place in that agency for the likes of man who could not control his temper.
He hadn’t lasted very long among the reapers. They had been more than happy, almost gleeful, to grant him the ability to go freelance. It wasn’t the norm among those responsible for managing the afterlife. His life spent in the army, before his initial demise, had well acquainted Lagrain with administrations of the universe.
“Lawrence, are you quite alright in there?”
The question came with a sudden knocking at his hotel room door. Perhaps he should have taken his rants with the sky out to a field. Or kept his voices to himself. Lagrain could never risk biting his tongue to remain silent for fear that he might permanently pierce it. Particularly with the earthly challenges he had been facing as of late.
He stalked over to the door and wrenched it open to be met with the concerned form of Lord Oisean Bridger. Here he was complaining about the dramatic lives of humans as he led on his own sordid affairs. Pining after a man who quite literally left him on the mountain lifetimes ago and letting this poor politician lust over this version of his physical being.
Bridger pushed past him, running tense fingers through his quickly graying hair. It was, unfortunately, glaringly obvious as to how much the man had been shaken up by the events of the afternoon. Lagrain hadn’t needed to bring Magill to the hotel. He really shouldn’t have tempted his employer in this way or that.
Even if this was just a matter of fake employment and a means to an end. Watching the other man break down before him was an unnerving sight to see. He was realizing more and more, by the moment, the importance of the approach that Haller had to humans. The intricate methodology to fitting in that the man had with each of their assignments. Their devotion to having every little detail right down to the specifications of utensils for each planet.
“Lord Bridger - Oisean - I am greatly touched by your care, but I am just letting off a bit of steam. I am sorry if it has disrupted your evening in any way.”
The spinning of the apology came to him swiftly and smoothly. He had never had the same ability as Haller to comfort the hurt, but he could reasonably fake it. At least he thought he could.
“Lawrence, I never want to pry or make my way into your personal life, but I heard you shouting a few moments ago. Shouting your own name for no foreseeable reason.”
Lagrain placed his hands on Oisean’s shoulders, guiding the man over to his bed and motioning for him to sit down. He kept the silence between them as he walked to the bottle that he kept in the desk of the hotel room. There hadn’t been much use of it so far on this journey, but it was a comfortable thing to have around.
One glass was placed in Bridger’s shaking hand and the other stayed with him. In his own inhumanly steady hand that was threatening to become unstable at any given moment. There was a certain balance that he needed to keep in this conversation.
What steps did he need to take to keep up the appearance of the flirtatious secretary who didn’t mean to be so attractive to the man whose letters he posted? He took a sip of his whiskey and gently placed his hand on Bridger’s thigh. He could feel the other man vibrating out of himself under the pressure.
Finding the right words, well potentially right words, Lagrain carefully asked, “Was Mr. Magill right, Oisean?”
The idea had been to convince Magill to go back to Bridger so that the path would be made clear to Haller. It had seemed to him, in the moment when he met Magill in the street, that two people who had once loved each other might want to love one another again. Perhaps he had seen in them, in their terrible situation, something that was similar to his own quest across the universe.
“Right about what, Lawrence?”
“The way that you feel about me. Do you see me in that way? Want me in that way?”
Both men looked down at Lagrain’s hold on Oisean’s thigh. They looked back up at each other and Lagrain found himself pushing stray locks out of the other man’s eyes. He took his slight height advantage as a means to placing a gentle kiss on the other man’s creased forehead.
“I think I was distracting myself with thoughts of you so that I wouldn’t go back to Monty.”
Lagrain, still not knowing where his sudden compassion for humans had come from, pulled the pair of them down onto the bed. He should have been bothered by the unlocked door, but he assumed a certain amount of discretion on the part of the empty hotel. Oisean’s tears lightly fell against his undone tunic and he found his fingers brushing through the man’s hair.
It was a rather lovely head of hair.
“Is that why you were so worked up over coming out here? Worried about the possibility of seeing him again?”
One hundred thousand years of work in the planning was at risk of being lost because of the meddling of two human souls. Two men who couldn’t make up their minds about whether or not they still wanted to be intertwined. Their petty, utterly human dramas threatened his own happiness.
“I knew he would find someone else. I knew that from the moment I first let him go, but I didn’t know that I wouldn’t have found someone else by now.”

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Apr 30, 2023 11:06 pm
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BluesClues says...



(Still here, just very few spoons lately ,<3)
  





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Mon May 01, 2023 12:41 am
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues :hugs:

Perspective shift only because I needed to introduce the villain.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  








"I'd be a quote vigilante. A literary Batman. Someone had better be quoting me now!"
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