The corners of Damascus' mouth turned up at Boris' inquiry, and his eyes shone. With a brief little stroke of his hair, he set to answer the question, torn, as always, between how much information he should give and how much he should glance over.
"Jiminey, Boris..." he murmured, not in an unhappy way. "I really haven't told you much, have I? Let's see... I hardly know where to begin."
He leaned his head back against the tree, and let his mind wander peacefully as he grasped at what he wanted to tell.
"Well, yes, I do live on an Earth," he started cheerfully. "I'm blessed to stay there full time, now, and though I'd love to call it home, I'm still not sure that I'm allowed. The year is... goodness- 2016 already? Yes, that sounds about right."
He nodded to himself and smiled, before turning his chin to cast a soft look down once more.
"I have so many stories to tell you, Boris. And I will. I will tell them all to you. But, for now, why..." he chuckled a little to himself and tilted his head, leaning his head back to get a better view. "I've just now realized that I hardly know anything about your life, either. What is your world like? And what year is it for you?"
Siren nodded solemnly, satisfied with her work. Then she smiled her ragged smile again, and hopped back to stare into the fire. -------------
Boris frowned in protest, at the sudden change of subject.
"But you just- ...alright. But I haven't forgotten what you said at the ball, either. I'm getting that story out of you, sooner or later." he said, with childlike insistence.
His preface uttered, he settled back into Damascus' lap, and began his tale, light and content as he ever was.
"The year is 1883. I left Prussia after the war of 1870 to... seek my fortune in England. Hence, all this." Unable to gesture at his changes in outlook and accent, he settled for gesturing vaguely at his clothing.
"Adjusting was difficult, initially. I had gone quite alone, and in something of a hurry, I did no research whatsoever. I thought that simply speaking good English would suffice. I thought the majority of the strange things I had heard about London was nothing but hysterical gossip. And, granted, some of it was." he paused, and chuckled.
"I recall, on my first day there, I said to this grocer woman, in utter confoundment," (here he briefly readopted his old German accent,) "'I know this place fell to the devils in '62, but where in the Hell do the squid-men come from?'
And she replied, in her exotic Cockney," (he did an impression of her voice) "'Where indeed? Knowin' don't keep our bellies full, son. Don't bother with these things.'
Safe to say, I did not take her advice."
Boris stared off into the trees for a spell, and looked back on all the forbidden ground he had tread upon, in the past year alone, a far cry from the young man he had been when he began his search twenty-three years ago.
"It amuses me, now, to think of the things that baffled me back then. Like the structure of the state revolving purely around commerce, with practically no military or border concerns to speak of. Speech emanating from organisms which are traditionally incapable. The Londoners' obsession with espionage, and endless quest for perfect distraction. The nature of the word 'inflammable.'"
Boris smiled back up at Damascus.
"But, now you see me, pronouncing my 'th's and 'w's like a native Englishman." said Boris, with a cheery mixture of sarcasm and bashful timidity, as though he were undecided on wether this accomplishment was something to be proud of or embarrassed by.
Last edited by SirenCymbaline on Wed Apr 10, 2019 6:01 pm, edited 5 times in total.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent
Hey guys! I have a quick change I want to make to Maahes and Edward’s past. I’ll edit through my previous posts later when I have the time, but Maahes and Edward weren’t in love with each other. They were part of a trio during World War II. Maahes was more a third wheel than anything else. Maahes’s name was Nicholas Drew back then, Edward’s was the same as it currently is, and the third member - the one Edward was in love with - was Arthur Browne. Arthur also presumably died in the line of service, like Edward did, but neither Edward or Maahes were present then.
Gabriel and Dean finished eating without incident. There were a few glances sent their way as the hunters noticed how the number of people present at the table were steadily growing, but none of the hunters actually ventured over. By the time the four finally left the establishment, the sun had already fallen, and Dean could smell a fire burning nearby. He withheld the urge to groan at the smell - if he could smell it, then anyone else outside of the building could, too.
“...Is something burning?” Runi quietly asked, peering into the darkness of the woods.
“Yes,” Dean confirmed.
“That’s totally not suspicious,” Gabriel said. He did a little stretch, glanced back at the hunter hangout, then gestured at the old gravel road that led away from it. “I’m going to go get Issac and Quinn. Do you have your phone on you?”
Dean dug into his bag. After a minute of searching, he found his cell phone tucked in between his bat and coke bottle. “I do. You can text me when you’ve gotten at the place - which, by the way, I still need the address to.”
“Already on it,” Gabriel replied. Dean felt his phone vibrate in his hand, and a quick check showed that Gabriel had just texted him the address. “See you there.”
With a casual wave, the demon had turned his back to the remaining three and began heading down the road.
xXx
Dean entered the woods with Runi and Cornyx in tow to see that the others had broken up into smaller groups. Some of the groups were expected - Zephyrus and Aquarius still hadn’t left each other’s sides. Others were a little less expected, like Maahes and Edward; both looked surprisingly tearful, though he couldn’t possibly figure out why. And then there was Schadel and Griffith. For someone who had been so scared of the grim reaper before, Griffith was surprisingly chummy with Schadel.
Conversations ceased as the arrival of the three was noticed, and all eyes seemed to land on Runi when the others realized that Dean and Cornyx had brought back someone else that didn’t have any demonic or angelic features. Runi gave everyone a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“We’re back-” Dean paused, staring at the things he had missed during his cursory survey of the area. There was the fire that he had smelled, but he hadn’t expected the shelter that Rose had presumably made a short distance away. “Why is that there?”
“We’re going to spend the night here,” Zephyrus replied.
“There’s a road and a restaurant,” Dean replied. “We’re not out in the wilderness.”
“...We can’t leave when we look like this,” Aquarius quietly protested. “...You said that would be bad.”
“I said it would be bad if we went into that hunter place,” Dean corrected. “But I have another place to go, with the perfect way to get there. We’re going on a little field trip with the help of a teleportation charm.”
He turned back to Cornyx and Runi.
“But before we go, this is Runi,” he said. “She’s a bona fide demon, and she’s offered to help us. There’s a couple of other people who will help us, too, but Runi’s sticking with us for now.”
James stood up as Dean and Cornyx returned with a woman who was human in appearance. He gave her a critical gaze as she was introduced, looking her up and down as he adjusted the cuffs on the sleeves of his jacket and straightened it out.
It wasn't like they had any other leads, so any help was better than nothing.
He walked up to her and held out a hand to shake.
"Thank you for your assistance," he said with a nod, suddenly very aware of how the horns on his head made the front of his skull much heavier. The weight distribution was much different than he was used to, and his head hung low for a second longer than felt normal.
"Well, let's get going, then?" James said, pulling away from Runi. He looked around to do a headcount. Damascus and Boris were still off with each other.
At Boris' frown and insistance of Damascus' story telling, he reevaluated his phrasing, keeping a little smile twisted at his lips even as uneasiness took root in him. He hadn't meant to be elusive in any way, but... he had refrained from sharing more than minimal information, hadn't he?
Perhaps it was only a bad habit. He'd never been used to sharing much about himself- at least, not things that were completely truthful or unabridged.
Shaking off these thoughts with a few quick blinks, he turned his full attention to Boris once again. His hand ran timidly across his forehead, and his little smile grew genuinely from the joy he found in simply being able to listen to Boris banter on.
"My goodness, Boris..." he started, a moment after he was finished speaking, "I had completely forgotten, but- that was German you spoke as a child, wasn't it?"
He nodded absently to himself, occupied with recounting that first night he had met his oath brothers- and Boris. Already he was separating them in his mind.
And... 1883. Jiminey. He knew that their times were distanced by more than a century, but Boris' year still seemed like yesterday to him. It did and it didn't. What had he been doing then?
Ah, yes. That block was close to the time he had been inadvertently involved in the affairs of American politicians. He gave a brief shudder and refocused once again.
Something that had been mentioned only now caught his attention, and he frowned.
"One moment-" he held Boris' shoulder out from him and leaned back, squinting. "Did I hear that right? London has- squid people?" He frowned again in thought, mulling this over. "Or is that some sort of figurative expression? The last time I was near England was before your time, of course, but- I could have sworn that none of the Englishmen I was aquainted with resembled cephalopods."
"Oh, did you miss them?" Boris asked casually, forgetting to even consider that Damascus' England may have been at all different.
"The advent of their arrival is a mystery. London fell in 1862, but I wasn't there until about 1870, so this was all here before me. Maybe, they were from one of the older cities, before London. It's very difficult to find information on the early days, especially with censorship being as tight as it is. As for the squid-men, I don't think they are possessive of their history. It is hard to tell, when they don't talk."
Boris closed his eyes, and paused for a moment, to wonder why he had never thought to pursue this line of thought. Fanciful notions began to come to his head, which he dreamily murmured aloud.
"The Khanagian Envoy... her city was there long before ours, if her people recorded it, she would know. She does owe me a favour...but for memories that precious, that taboo...I don't think she owes me quite enough for that."
He slowly opened his eyes, and looked back up to Damascus, bubbling with curious fervour.
"But imagine," he whispered, "If I could find records like that, from someone who was there the day that London was sold, who knows how it was lifted and carried, a mile underneath the Mediterranean Sea, with nothing but enormous clouds of bats to hold its weight, how the citizens of both cities adjusted, accepted, rebelled, perhaps... which of our neighbours came first."
He laughed, and sighed.
"..but even if I could discover all that, I'd only keep it to myself, anyway. Maybe... it's jussst as well."
Boris closed his eyes, nuzzled his face back into Damascus' jumper, and wrapped his arms around his waist, to prevent him from getting up.
"I'm not tired," he said, his voice small and muffled, not even bothering to act.
"We're not going back. Not... not yet."
It was getting dark. And he was growing tired. He would soon be ready to give in, but not before he protested like a child, first.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent
During Boris' very factual and energetic rant, Damascus had slowly pulled back to study his face, not sure what to think of all of this. His brows knit together in concern, especially at the bit with London being dragged into the Mediterranean by a flock of bats.
Really, he didn't know what to think of everything. Boris seemed completely serious about what he was saying- it didn't seem to be fantasy to him. And Damascus seriously doubted that Boris was tired enough to be delirious, though he had noticed his movements slowing down and the warm softness that had touched his eyes.
It wasn't until Boris' sleepy protests that he was distracted from his concern enough to notice the sky. It was much darker than he had realized, and there was a slight chill to the air that came with the twilight.
He pulled Boris closer to him and stayed silent for a moment, worrying at his lip.
He didn't want to go back either. The euphoria that he'd been illusioned with since their first kiss was intoxicating. All he wanted to do was bask and hold on to the feeling that they were the only people in the world for as long as he could.
Invitations rested at his lips- they could spend the night here, under the tree, wrapped in each other's company.
But then thoughts of the rest of the group- James especially- came to him, and he was forced to bring himself back to reason.
"It's getting dark, love." He murmured. The endearment slipped out unconsciously. He took a moment to blush with timid satisfaction.
"We really should go." He coaxed, and rested his chin on Boris' shoulder.
Though he was being somewhat assertive, Damascus' tone and his arms- which were still wrapped tightly around him- minimized any authoritative presence he might have had.
Boris pressed himself tighter into Damascus's chest, and inhaled deeply. He held the moment in for a spell, before he finally loosened his grip, and breathed out a reply.
“Pffffine.”
Last edited by SirenCymbaline on Sun Apr 28, 2019 4:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent
Damascus smiled and nodded, shifting his weight to his knees.
"Alright then. I'll even save you the trouble of walking." He coerced, not waiting for a reply before he scooped Boris up with a little grunt and stood the rest of the way.
He hummed and he set off, his lover in arms, and headed back to join their friends. They had traipsed in the woods too long, and now it was time to face everyone else- together.
The timing was perfect - as the last two emerged from the woods, Dean felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked his texts. Just what he had been hoping for: an address. He fished out a charm from the depths of his bag, trying to figure out the best way to get everyone there at once. He vaguely remembered his brother mentioning an option to spread it across a large area and transport the people within it. He had just had to visualize it.
Well, if worst came to worst, he could always go back and get any people that didn't get picked up by the spell.
He took a deep breath, let the magic run through him, and spoke the words to make the charm activate. Warmth enveloped him and the rest of the group, and it was only a matter of seconds before they suddenly appeared in the center of a large warehouse.
But they weren't the only ones there - there were four people present. One of them was Gabriel; that was expected. Issac was there, too, alongside Quinn. But then there was the fourth one, who looked slightly younger than even Quinn...
His eyes widened.
"Luci!" he exclaimed.
His brother turned, having been in the middle of a conversation with Quinn right before the group arrived. It wasn't long before they rushing over to each other - his brother started the hug, but he certainly didn't have any objections to it.
Spoiler! :
Here's a quick rundown on what the four look like, Gabriel included. He's changed forms since earlier.
Gabriel: Tall. Has blond hair with light blue tips, blue eyes and is wearing all black - a leather jacket, shirt, jeans, and boots. The jacket has a pair of embroidered angel wings in white thread. Looks to be in his twenties.
Issac: Slightly shorter than Gabriel. Has black hair, hazel eyes and looks somewhat professional. His outfit is a collared white button up shirt with short sleeves, black dress pants, and brown loafers. Something about his face looks wrong when he tries to smile, but it's nearly impossible to figure out what. Looks to be in his twenties.
Quinn: Shorter than Issac. Has black hair in a bob, green eyes and is wearing casual clothes. Her outfit is a hoodie, jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Looks to be in her late teens.
Luci: About Quinn's height. Has short, curly black hair and baby blue eyes. Is wearing a zipped up hoodie stained with paint and charcoal, paint-stained jeans, sneakers and has a pencil tucked behind one of his slightly pointed ears. He looks like he's a little younger than Quinn.
Gender:
Points: 1865
Reviews: 162