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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Dec 31, 2016 6:33:00 GMT
(the second remake of an old rp called “After the Fall,” since Kelathi and I love our main characters for it haha. Change of setting to a certain extent adding in a little bit of a psychotic twist hahahaha)
Some said that Aurelias was a gold mine, a safety deposit box of precious, rare resources. The treasure chest marked with an “X,” if one only had the map to its hidden pockets. Others said it was fool’s gold, that what little had been found was all to find. Some were said to go mad from searching. But as the years went on after the starlit world’s discovery, one theme became even more common.
Aurelias was also known as the Grave Maker.
The eleventh planet in an already large solar system, its noon was only bright enough to see vague forms by. It was a twilight world, covered in dense forests that hadn’t been broached in fifty years. Its hints of great wealth just below its rocky crust had drawn in many hopefuls, but its treacherous landscape and elusive wildlife quickly and effortlessly eliminated the initial flow of miners. Those that remained did so because they had little choice; all had been spent on getting there, expecting to become wildly rich and afford easy tickets home. Only a few mining companies invested in stations, tiny compared to the promises Aurelias once held, but maintained just in case such rumors were true. They controlled who came and went like a unionized government, and in turn those managing the stations built up their own personal rank of guards, private if small armies that guided the path of what could survive on Aurelias.
When the planet was first discovered, a flock of gold diggers came rushing in, only to vanish. The second wave came in better prepared, discovering the land itself was unfriendly to the structure of civilization, the forest always pushing on the borders of towns to try to reclaim the lost lands. A proper city was still beyond the grasp of the miners, the world itself seeming to resist. That didn’t include the dangers of what was native to the planet. Within the twilight world were creatures that were once thought only to exist in nightmares, monsters that ranged from alien versions of rats to beings that easily wiped out entire encampments. Few of the latter were ever seen, at least by any who survived to tell of them; it was clips of media and prints in the dirt and blood that indicated something quite powerful roamed the forests. The only defense to be found was light; there was a natural bioluminescence that repeatedly manifested itself, from lacy patterns on the flora to stripes and glowing eyes on the fauna, but the direct light brought with the miners was shunned, making it an effective, if delicate shield. With such a high mortality rate, it was little wonder that travel to Aurelias soon slowed to a mere trickle, with limited forms of business still being conducted by the few hardy, stubborn, or desperate people who held out.
While roughly half of the small population on Aurelias were second generations or even third, there was still need of skills that hadn’t been drawn by the promise of gold in the alien earth. Few stayed long once their job was done, eager to not meet the fate of so many off-worlders who didn’t heed warnings of avoiding the shadows, even in the well lit towns. The predominantly blue-green glow of the native lifeforms on the planet were not soothing to most, not when the glow of the trees created menacing shadows, as it was only enough light to distinguish the source from the darkness. It created an eerie effect when there was no other light to disturb it, beautiful yet haunting. Engineers were always in demand to protect the sources of light, backups lovingly tended to for their safety factor. The better lit someplace was, the more expensive it was to live there. This was in part managed by many people living together, splitting the costs up to four or five ways just to avoid the darkness on the edges.
A few felt tough enough to survive that darkness, however, even entering the edges of the encroaching forest to conduct a different kind of “business.” With the promise of money came the thugs and bullies, eager for the reward without realizing the work it would take. They tried to form their own power bases, and were causing even more problems than the mining companies. Between them, at least, a fair set of laws had been put in place, no one wanting to give the other side an advantage by turning the public against them. The gangs brought open violence to an orderly war, coming in frequently enough to fill in the ranks that would otherwise be thinned out all too quickly. The forests belonged to the beasts that lived there; they were not open to sharing with individuals such as these. The planet was hostile in more than just its terrain, miners learning to fear the rare but distinctive veins of blue-green crystal. The dust from picking it out would light up the air, but inexplicably the miners would start going mad, as if drunk or psychopathic. While no scientific evidence had connected the glowing crystals to these episodes, many of the more superstitious mindset tried to find ways off Aurelias, certain it was cursed. It certainly seemed to be that way; of the seven companies to keep a station going for the last fifty years, two were already making plans to pull out. The attempt of civilizing Aurelias seemed to be a failure after all, its future uncertain for those who were not native to its darkness.
One of the most distinctive ways in which the newcomers seemed to be losing the battle was in how the ferrets were turning into the scavenging vermin of the towns. Without any idea of what the native creatures could be called, the miners had long started naming species after ones from their own worlds, and so the slinky mammal-like creatures were dubbed “ferrets.” They had delicate profiles like a fox, with a pair of ears that dwarfed their heads, a long body with little feet and a long, graceful and bushy tail. What proved these were alien was how instead of four feet they had six, the two front pairs ideal for holding food to nibble on and catch prey, and the double-slitted pupils in all four eyes glowed with the blue-green iridescence that could only come from this world. The reddish fur was ringed along the tail and down the spine with a paler glow, while soft black quills followed the backbone from the back of the skull to the base of the tail. An interesting addition was the thin skin that bound the middle and back legs, enabling gentle gliding from one tree to another. In the towns, this was more from rooftop to trashcan. The creatures were fast, incredibly so, and would vanish as soon as a light was lit near them. It wasn’t uncommon for them to short out the lights as well, making them a menace as much as an annoyance. However, they had grown more used to the lights of the towns, not even fearing people unless they came within catching distance. None had ever been caught, nor had any been tamed, and it was likely none ever would. Despite being over three feet in length from nose and whiskers to tip, half of the length tail alone, they could vanish like smoke.
Finding wildlife in the forest was unexpectedly difficult, given how quickly entire groups of people could vanish with a single cry. It was partly this, and the relative shyness of the ferrets that emboldened the criminal population to having their meetings in the woods. Convenient, for some anyway, who didn’t want their business to be seen by anyone of the law-abiding type.
That included a figure, whose business was completed for the night at last. It was getting close to midnight, not that the level of light indicated such. The figured was dressed in black, effortlessly blending into the soft glow from the lines that traced the bark and leaves of the trees. Not every plant on Aurelias glowed, such as the grass, but anything with blooms would be traced in some fashion. A simple brush of the hand against the glow would cause a stir, sparking pinks and violets through the often blue-green patterns, as if the plant shuddered with the touch of another life form. It would have been an overwhelming show if the grass did the same, as the leaves left only the most delicate trace of the man as he passed by.
The desired disc safely tucked into his pocket, the man continued on, a quiet figure who seemed rather calm in the face of such darkness. Cloaked in his dark clothes, even the unkept layers of red hair and light skin low key in the shadows. His eyes, however, were rather distinctive, glittering with a light that mimicked the glow around him. Something in him felt settled, a lust satisfied, a feeling he chalked up to having at last gotten his hands on the information, unusually stored on a remote disc to protect it from people who would abuse the information. Such as his client. It had been a grueling year hunting for it, but the pay had been good, and just in time; having arrived five years before, he had all but run out of money when the job was offered. And his client had been patient indeed.
It made the mercenary rather suspicious.
With a steady step, he continued through the trees, unusually lingering in their depths rather than immediately returning to the safety of the town’s lights. Given his profession, it was not so hard to imagine; a mercenary, hired to collect a disc. One who had learned the use of fear was quite effective in getting results. The two men he had just met with to get the disc at last were easily cowed, surrendering the disc with little effort. It was rather satisfying, even though it meant the constant flow of money would soon end. Allan Forsyth was not one to blindly trust, however, and had for some time been ready to review the disc himself before turning it over. He had gotten it quietly and patiently, leaving two shaken individuals behind him. It was unlikely they would admit to giving up the disc. He had the time to check it out. It had been one of his better moments, using carefully placed threats to coerce them into cooperation. It was a skill he had learned long ago, one that had often been practiced on this world. He was also one of the ones who had yet to so much as hear a growl from one of the beasts that lurked in the darkness, part of the larger population, but he had one unusual companion trailing after him, one that hadn’t been seen with an off-worlders before.
Conversational chittering stopped the human mid step, turning to look back at the ferret who was following him. As soon as he had paused, she rushed forward, spinning about his legs before rushing ahead, already guiding him back. With an exasperated sigh, Allan began to follow in turn, muttering to her under his breath. “You’ve got to stop doing this, Pip.” The name was an accidental one, an abbreviated version of “pipsqueak” from when she had first appeared. It had been sudden, two years after he had arrived and begun living near the edges of the smallest of the towns, she had simply started following him. At first there had been distance, as if fascinated but put off. As time went on, she would draw closer and closer, until she was as familiar with him as one of her own. Not that he felt that strong a sense of kinship, but quite obviously she did. How many times had he woken up to find her sleeping on the bed? How many times had she been there when he had stepped into the forest, following him until he returned to the lights? Of late… he couldn’t recall a time where she hadn’t.
They continued the odd interaction even into the farthest edges of the town, old buildings and dimmer lights forming pockets of darkness. Pip’s eyes narrowed against even this paler light, hugging close to the man’s legs rather than sprinting ahead as she had done. Allan also found himself beginning to squint in the light, even though it was only strong enough to read by. He reached for a pocket, a well rehearsed mutter about his eyes getting old and being too sensitive to the light around him, and began to put on the dark lensed sunglasses before noticing his hand. His expression, having been a stony mask of calm and power, merged with tinges of annoyance every so often, suddenly blanched.
His hand was splattered in red, old enough to have started to dry. And it wasn’t his. The glasses momentarily forgotten, he lifted his hand up into the light, staring at a clue that could not have been there. “I didn’t…” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, but everything else said otherwise. It had happened again. He remembered a calm interaction, a little blood spilled to scare the two men into submission. Nothing that violent, nothing of this magnitude. There was the sensation of bruises forming on his knuckles, as if he had hit something repeatedly, enough to create the pattern now displayed across his hand. The longer he studied his hand, the more it began to shake, until he finally clenched it, falling back into the wall as he tried to steady himself.
Would there be another report of a brutal attack? Would it be murder this time? It had been once, the first time his memory and his hands hadn’t matched. His other hand came up, wrist to his forehead as he tried to remember. It had been a conversation… a knife had been drawn, but it had been used on them… thin cuts on the cheek, something visible and painful to make them obey. Just like always, he had handled it deftly and quickly. He had been in control. He remembered that… he could walk himself through every step! He knew what he had done! How could anything have happened that he didn’t remember? How could this happen again?!
Strong licks brought him back slowly, opening his eyes to see Pip cleaning the blood away, completely calm in the face of his turmoil. She purred as she licked, the sound beginning to fill his ears as she worked, delicate paws shifting from holding onto just the wall to his hand to pry it open and catch every part. Before long, his heart beat had returned to normal, a heavy weariness overcoming him. Allan continued to lean against the wall, not fighting Pip as she nuzzled into his shoulder, continuing to clean off the remaining bits of splatter, finishing his hand and tending to his neck and chin. He wasn’t even sure when he felt like stirring, how long they had been that way, but when he did he quickly pushed away from the wall. It earned a disgruntled chitter as Pip had to readjust her balance on him.
“Come on, go home,” he commanded, the ferret simply purring as she wound her way down his side, trotting off in a direction that made him sigh. He knew exactly where she was heading; it didn’t matter it was his home, rather than hers. A small apartment, curtains blocking out the light that tried to flit in from the street, comfortably dark to even his sensitive eyes. But she had done her job, so it seemed; he was calm again, pushing into the town for a drink. The worry over the news that would come out in the next day or so was lessened, more interested in perfecting how to get a hangover. The glasses were again moved towards his face, but there was no blood to make him pause. It was clearly unusual to wear sunglasses of any kind, nevermind a pair as dark as these, in a world where light was a precious commodity to be fought over. But they were all that allowed him to walk the normal streets anymore, his assumption being that his work had been in the dark so long that his eyes had changed to compensate. His night vision had never been better, with the obvious sacrifice of standing any normal lights. The glasses were all that kept him from being perpetually blinded once among his fellow off-worlders.
He walked off into the town, heading towards the only bar to be found in the area. It was an older place, maintained from the early days of colonization on Aurelias, but it was still a place to get smashed and forget about the past. He had learned to shrug off quite a number of memories. What he didn’t realize was how much easier that was getting.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 1, 2017 22:00:21 GMT
Life will always prevail, even in the most unlikely of places; it will still strive to exist in some way. Humans especially are hardy creatures, and after colonizing their own planet to the point of excessiveness, it was not long before they looked skyward and began to seek greener pastures. It was a concept that had been dreamed of since humans had first gazed up at the heavens and wondered what lay beyond, but in the last 100 years humanity had taken great leaps in terms of technology, and it had actually become possible to transport whole colonies of people to distant planets, in order to fulfill this age-old dream. So they did so, and they lived as they had on earth- expanding and multiplying on whatever planet that could support them. Things had been looking promising; well… it had been for the wealthier individuals that could afford for such planetary relocation. For those that could not, there were of course, other ways… Illegal immigration was not a new concept, but it had never been more prevalent before now, so much so that it was not unusual to have entire families stowed away within the hull of a spacecraft, their numbers often actually exceeding the number of legal immigrants on board.
Ariane was one such individual. She still remembered the day she left Earth, although she could no longer remember it with much clarity, the details corroded now by time and maturity. She faintly remembered the wind whipping her hair about her head, and clutching something, probably a soft toy, close to her chest as she approached the looming spaceship. She remembered feeling her mother’s hand close over her shoulder, and her blurred smiling face against the backdrop of the crimson, pollution-riddled sky… It was an old memory, and not one she visited often.
So much had happened since then, and yet, often, she still felt as if despite everything… time had stalled and she was still in the same place. Treading water in limbo, the world changing very little around her as time rode on, as if it all meant nothing. She was twenty-two now, a young adult, and yet… she was trapped in limbo, caught between two worlds, split directly down the middle… There was the world she lived in with her mother, the world of dingy, smoke-ridden rooms and low lights. And then there was the world she held in her imagination, the one she kept sheltered from judging, prying eyes, the one she had dreamed up for her little brother. A world of light, clean air and void of this un-ending night. But an escape from this planet would not be easy. Her funds were ever low, and to sneak out as she had been smuggled in? Law enforcement had grown cleverer even as illegal immigrants grew bolder, so they were working out the tricks. She couldn’t risk being arrested, if she was, that would leave Tristan to Angelika’s mercy. No, if she were to leave, it would have to be through an honest living. If not planetary relocation, simply the removal from the slums to the wealthier, lighter area would be welcomed.
Angelika, her mother. With her bleach blonde hair graying at the roots and her thick makeup that was liable to cracks and creases around her eyes and mouth… she was a woman living in the past, forever trying to relive her golden days, and never planning ahead for a better life for herself or her illegitimate children. She was a mess, an individual with few morals, and willing to sell any part of herself for quick cash. She was the reason Ariane was there at all, having followed her problematic partner to one of the most inhabitable planets in the entire solar system and dragged her child with her… It was exactly in her character. Now, for better or worse, they were trapped here. And, for Angelika at least, with no intention of leaving. Why would she want to? She had everything she needed right here, a roof over her head, the ability to fund her many addictions, and jobs in her line of work were never difficult to find in the underbelly of the town…
It had been her mother’s idea for Ariane to perform. She remembered the first night where her mother had finally talked her into it- she had been so nervous. But they needed the money, and the usual singer had been missing for days at the time. When she sat up on the stage, on the creaking wooden chair with the dim spotlight glaring at her… she had been sure she was going to throw up. But no one was looking at her; they were much too interested in their own conversations and drinks to eyeball the young, shy, lone girl onstage. In her hands, her great grandmother’s chipped acoustic guitar, a relic from a time long past. A deep breath, eyes closed… and she began to strum on the guitar with practiced hands as she began to sing.
“I don’t know where she gets it from!” Angelika would boast proudly to any patron that would listen as she pulled their drinks. “Always had a knack for music, she did. From when she were lil’, she would pluck at the strings of that old thing. I tried to sell it once but she wouldn’ let me!” a laugh. “She sings like an angel too, she gets that from me, she does. I was in a choir, but can’t sing anymore what with all the smokin’” and then she would lean back for a moment, eyes glazed in thought as she fantasized of the prodigy she believed she could have been if time had been kinder. It had become a regular event now for Ariane, and every tip she had received, she had later learnt to hide from her mother’s sly fingers, lest she take it for herself, as she had done so many times in the past. When she wasn’t singing and playing her guitar, she was working around the bar, serving drinks and clearing up after the patrons. All to secure a better life for Tristan.
She wanted to give him the life she had never had. She wanted him to be able to live without having to be victim to the whims of others. A life away from this planet may take her own lifetime to save up for, but it was a goal worth striving for.
It was his face she saw before she considered any course of action.
“No.” Her voice was firm, and did not invite argument. Her mother ignored the tone completely, and continued anyway. She was like a dog with a bone once she gets an idea into her head, but Ariane had grown hard to her persuasions, even as her mother latched onto her arm and adopted her manipulative tone, with honeyed words with the aim to calm and bargain. “No!” Ariane merely repeated angrily, shaking her arm away before slamming the door behind her…
And walking into the throng of people.
Lowering her head a little and avoiding the gaze of the patrons as she had learnt, she moved through the people carefully, many years of practice allowing her to fade into the background when needed. They were much too drunk to notice her small form slipping by anyway, so she was able to cross the room to the bar without incident and without so much as a glance. She was a regular sight at the place, but there were still always those that decided to give her more attention than what was acceptable. With the wooden bar between herself and the customers, she felt an illusion of safety, and began to set to work busily, serving the throng of people that had already built up with her short absence, the barman leaning against the wood to talk to customer rather than actually work. Her mind was whizzing too much at the moment to give him any thought, so much so that the faces were a blur in the background of her tumultuous thoughts.
She couldn’t believe Angelika had even… no, actually, she could. It was exactly the sort of thing she should have expected from the woman. She wanted Tristan to start earning his keep, to help out in the bar, as Ariane had herself when she was younger. But Tristan? He was only five years old, and Angelika was happy to have him clearing away glasses, and be in the company of these people, all for a couple of scraps of metal! Well, not on her watch, not whilst she was still alive and kicking! She wanted to keep Tristan as far away from this place as possible, and would continue to do everything within her power to keep that so.
Crash!
Damn it… She had turned to grab a clean glass, but had ended up knocking another with her elbow as she turned. She had instinctively whipped back round to grab it, sensing its movement, but had missed by a hair. “Careful, girl!” a husky bark, belonging to the man behind the bar, whom liked to pretend he was her superior despite being paid the same amount as she did… With a barely audible curse, she ran to grab the dustpan and brush, and as she returned to sweep it up, she glanced up to see that a man was waiting. “Sorry, I’ll be with you in a moment.” She assured, feeling flustered and annoyed at her clumsiness. Normally, she was well versed in her job, able to serve multiple drinks without so much as a spilled drink. But with her mind on other things, her practiced hands even shook a little in her frustration, an emotion spurred on both by the confrontation she had just had with her mother, and with the addition of having knocked the glass to the floor.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 1, 2017 23:25:32 GMT
As he came closer to the busy place, Allan’s lip began to curl instinctively. Too many people… too much noise. But he wanted his drink, and it was far too easy to lose a bottle purchased for the home with his work keeping him away for twelve hours or more. He earned a few curious or surprised looks for the glasses, but quickly forgotten as he was a regular to the bar, and was known for being quiet and “off.”
He was also known for ending fights before they had a chance to really get started. No one from the area had known him when he first arrived on Aurelias, as he had come through one of the busier towns. This place had only seen him for the last year as he had hunted down the disc he was now carrying. It had been enough time to know better than to get too close, especially the more boisterous individuals who fancied themselves socialites.
Allan made for his usual seat, at the end of the bar that was usually vacated as it was too far from the tables in the middle of the space. He had selected the seat for that reason when he first came, and it had only taken two attempts to settle a question of who was the better fighter. It meant he had his seat when he came in.
What wasn’t as clear was why his fights were sparked half the time by someone going after Ariane in some form or another. It wasn’t like he had ever “tried his luck” with her, not even when he was smashed and needed a little help back out the door. He was a block of ice to others who came near, but his voice would soften just a little when dealing with her. Which again, was not very much.
There was, however, a definite edge to him when someone would raise their voice to her, and it was now generally regarded a bad idea to make a pass if he was in the room. So as he took his seat, a few eager eyes moved away, knowing they’d have to try another day; he always came in late, but stayed for hours. In towns as small as those on Aurelias, it was hard not to recognize people when they frequented a place, especially when they were known for something, such as wearing sunglasses in a twilight world.
His eyes invisible beneath the lenses, he quietly watched as Ariane worked on cleaning up the mess, too busy to recognize him at first and offering a quick apology. Out of the corner of his eye, Allan could watch as the angle of his head unsettled the other man behind the bar, a slow finger tapping on the wood enough to restrain a few more corrections. That was one of the major advantages of his glasses, as it was impossible to tell which direction his eyes were focused on. When it finally came time for his order, he was as usual quiet and direct, his fingers stilling.
“The usual.”
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 1, 2017 23:54:11 GMT
Mess successfully cleared away, it was only then as she looked up that she recognized the man she had spoken to blindly only a moment before. Her eyes visibly lit up, not with joy, but… with a kind of coy relief. She knew very well that his presence here meant that she would have no trouble tonight. In fact, she visibly calmed, her hands stilling almost immediately, although the slight red flush was still noticeable on her cheeks, a response to rushing earlier rather than his presence. As he asked for his usual, she set about pouring it for him, the only drink she was happy to pull. As she always did with him, ever since that first time he had helped her, she ignored the strict measurements on the glass, pouring him extra and without extra charge. The barman never argued it when he caught her doing it, he knew better than to call her out on it, especially in front of the man. As she slid the glass over to him, a small smile tweaked onto her lips. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” She commented, even as she knew he would probably answer her with a minimal selection of words, often with vague meaning. Most avoided trying to strike up conversation with him, but Ariane knew better than to be afraid. Not that she had always been this way…
When he had first began to frequent the bar she had been as wary as anyone else was of him. Even after the first few times he had defended her, from a wandering hand as she passed by a table, or maybe a lewd comment from a drunken customer… he had frightened her. For he was quick to anger, and he was merciless and fearless when it came to a fight. For a long time she had worried about why he acted in the way he did, for she had been taught not to expect kindness without some sort of repayment, and every time he stepped in the bar… she worried that it would be the day he asked for her to settle some perceived debt. But with time, the fear and suspicion had waned. She did not know why he helped her, but he did, and she appreciated it, showing such gratitude by responding in kind. At times when the alcohol left him leg-less, she was a steady shoulder to lean on to help him out, or when a brawler announced loudly that he was going to put the man ‘back in his place’, she made sure to warn him before he even stepped foot in the bar, through keeping an eye on the street as she worked so that she might see him approach. He always won fights, anyway, but she liked to think that her warning had spared him a punch or two.
It had quietened now, it seemed the man was her last customer waiting for a drink… at least for now. It was strange, she had known him for a long time now… but knew nothing about him, not even his name. It had never seemed right to ask, and he was so guarded that when she did manage to squeeze some conversation out of him, she doubted if he would even answer. In truth, it didn’t matter if he didn’t talk. He was the only one in the bar that didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, so she welcomed his presence, silent or not. “Been getting bored of us, have you?” She added teasingly. It wasn’t that she wasn’t intimidated by him, he was a formidable figure at the best of times. It was just that she knew by now that he wished her no harm.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 2, 2017 6:40:05 GMT
There were many things that Aurelias had made different in Allan’s life. Adjusting to a perpetually dark sky had been one. Growing solitary had been another. He had never been the overly social type - there was a reason he was so good at intimidation - but he was simply getting to the point where he had nothing to say. He had no idea that this was taken to mean he was guarded, even though that was how he had begun to feel in the last year. Allan was rarely fully comfortable around people anymore, but he was convinced it was just being jaded by work. When hunting down people, it was easy to meet less than savory characters, many of who were more than willing to try to kill you.
It also hadn’t occurred to him how much of a mystery he was, used to being the quiet figure in a noisy room. Ariane’s name was used by people in the bar, predominantly by other employees, and so he had unofficially learned it. As he took the offered drink he slid payment across in return, not quite pausing at her comment.
Ariane was the only one to feel like striking up a conversation with him, for rather obvious reasons. He never had much to say, but she kept trying anyway. The surprise of someone like her consistently talking to him had faded, no longer making him pause. Her attention was… nice.
“Been busy,” was the accidentally vague response to her comment, despite having taken the time for one swallow of the alcohol as his time to consider his words. Then again, what else was there to say? That he’d finally gotten his hands on a disc he had been hunting over a year for? That he was going to be ending his job and may have to move to continue to make a living?
That he may have killed two more people?
Before his mind could travel on a darker path, she spoke again, the tease getting him to pause for the first time in a while. This was noticeable as he had been in the middle of lifting the glass again, although his expression remained in its usual stony neutral form. Who knew what his eyes were saying beneath the lenses. After a few moments, his head tilted down, indicating his eyes had followed suit, speaking softly before returning some attention to his drink.
“Hardly.”
HIs tone had been with her, as usual, that little bit softer compared to what he used with anyone else. But even in this one word, there was an additionally soft edge, one that hadn’t been there for some time. The last time it had been there, he was helping her up from a fall, asking if she was alright. A strange tone to have at that point, given that he had just taken out a brash newcomer who hadn’t known to leave Ariane alone while Allan was nearby.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 2, 2017 21:06:28 GMT
She noted the way he had uttered his reply, knowing him well enough to recognise that the tone used was the one he seemed to have reserved only for her. And in return, she gave him a smile, a genuine one, reserved only for him. It wasn’t a smile of gratitude for his constant help, it was… different somehow. Like, she was genuinely pleased to see him. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She stated, pretending to turn her attention back to the bar, picking up a glass and polishing it with a cloth. But although her gaze was averted, she was concentrating on him, knowing that he was watching her again from behind those strange dark sheets of glass he always had over his eyes. She longed to know what they hid; longed to actually look him square in the eye… it was hard to read him when she could not.
But it was all a part of the mystery of him. She couldn’t remember the moment when gratitude had changed and developed into something more, it had seemed such a natural process, a merging rather than a sudden realization that she liked him. But she was much too coy to consider that he might actually be attracted to her too. Sure, he helped her, but perhaps he was just a noble person… despite the obviously rough, and often hostile exterior. Perhaps it was just his protective side rearing its head when he saw her in trouble. But either way, she dared to fantasize that there might be something more, there.
“We missed you.” She added suddenly, raising her gaze once more, to where she thought his eyes must be. “There’s been a distinctive drop in entertainment since you’ve been gone.” Her eyes glinted with humour, referring casually to the occasional skirmishes Allan had been involved in. The comment was joined with a wink, perhaps a rather surprising action when considering whom she was talking to. Evidently, she felt comfortable with him enough to crack such jokes. Every time a joke or tease was well received, she felt a little braver to crack more, working out the boundaries of his humour, and what he found acceptable.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 3, 2017 0:09:26 GMT
He noticed her smile, of course. There was little she said or did that he didn’t notice, have memorized, safely attentive behind his mask of dark lenses. It was different than the forced one she would offer to some, but any other meaning was lost on him. Or why she would offer it to him. She owed him nothing, not in his eyes. And yet she had gone from timidly serving him to waiting for him, warning him of an impending threat… a steady hand when his world was angled. Her voice was gentle, one he liked to listen to, even if it was snippets of attempts to get him to respond in kind.
She had returned to her work, all too soon, Allan turning his gaze back to his drink long enough to use it as she worked nearby. This was one thing he had noticed, something that changed ever so slightly over the last several months. More and more, she found time to work by him, whether it was serving that side of the counter, tidying up, or simply polishing glasses as she was now. She had become rather attentive, which wasn’t… it was no problem, particularly as it also sheltered her from some attempt that thought could slip by without notice.
Again, she tried to speak to him, earning one of his rare if slight smiles. Another thing that he only gave to her. Entertainment… hah. “If you want,” he offered, the beginning of a tease in return. He didn’t have to look to feel the irritated glance of the bartender, who naturally didn’t want another brawl with broken furniture to replace… not that it was so expensive, but so hard to get on a world with limited trade.
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The rest of the evening went by as usual; Allan downed his average amount, indicating that his day hadn’t been so bad. When he got truly drunk, he had almost twice his usual substantial amount, making it remarkable that he could stand at all. He had done that the last two times he had come to the bar, so even in this he revealed just a little about himself. The patrons began to pull out of their places half an hour after last call, finishing up debts or coercing the barman to add it to their tabs.
Allan lingered a little, watching Ariane as she worked, offering the silent protection of his presence. But at last he had emptied his glass for the last time, feeling a pleasant numbness running through him. As usual, Allan left a generous tip for the exceptional service, not even needing to give the barman a look to say don’t touch. The man had tried once when he was feeling particularly annoyed by Ariane having such an “admirer.” It took a month for his arm to recover. And who knew what would happen if Ariane ended up telling Allan that the money had disappeared when he wasn’t there.
Stepping out into the air, moist as it was it was cool to the skin, Allan closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath in. Void of human… this smelled of the forest. He did not linger in front of the door for long, stepping aside and letting the ebb and flow of patrons leaving the bar continue unabated. No one seemed to even notice his pause, nor that he had moved to the darker side of the building, lighting up a cigarette. Even the flickering flame through his lenses left dots dancing in Allan’s vision, a sharp intake of breath that brought the smoke in too quickly. Clearing his throat as he waited for his vision to clear, he leaned up against the building, his gaze moving up to the pinpricks of stars above. The town was well lit, like a beacon, but was so small compared to the darkness of the forest around that the stars could still be seen, twinkling patterns and galaxies all hinting at what was out there. He could see it all, perhaps even better than anyone else despite the glasses.
The glasses… his head moved down again, eyes closing as he went to rub them beneath the glasses. It was one of the few moments where the glasses left the bridge of his nose, a more casual, tired reaction compared to the quiet and power he usually displayed. As the glasses landed back in place, it didn’t take much to realize he wasn’t actually alone, turning his head to determine who was watching him so intently.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 3, 2017 0:35:14 GMT
He had left before she had had chance to say goodbye, stepping out from the back room just in time to see him leaving. Her disappointment was soon subdued when she saw that, true to form, he had left a rather sizeable tip for her. But as she made her way towards it, the barman cut her off, taking the coins before she could reach the table. She paused, and watched helplessly as he took half of it. “For the glass.” He merely uttered gruffly, ignoring her dark stare as he shoved the money into his pocket. Her eyes widened, he was charging her for a broken glass? “Expensive glass!” She replied sharply, but knowing better than to say anymore or try to fight him for it, she swept the rest of the coins off the table. Angered, but still thankful that she had received any at all, she began to clear away the mess left by the patrons, letting the anger melt away as she did so. She just needed to keep her head down, and raise what she could. Half of the tip was still better than nothing at all.
As she cleared things away, the lighter her heart felt, and gradually, her mood improved as she occupied herself with day-dreaming about better things, even to the point of humming to herself as she worked.
***
Outside, the individual that was staring at Allan so intently happened to be a child, no older than five years old.
Why he would be out here, at this time, alone… was not immediately clear. But a quick sweep around would reveal that he did not appear to belong to anyone there. After a few moments of further study, his dark brown eyes characterized by inquisitiveness rather than fear… he appeared to decide that it was safe to talk to the tall, red-haired stranger.
“I know you!” he announced, almost accusingly. It soon became clear though, his recognition of the man was not linked to any negative event, in fact, quite the opposite… “You can help me.” He stated, matter of fact, stepping to the side to peer behind Allan, watching the few people pass by at the end of the streets as they left the pub. Whilst fear still did not touch his features, his brow did furrow a little as he watched. When the man didn’t answer, the child did not seem concerned, sure that his identification of him was correct. The man, he felt, was the most recognizable in the entire world, despite the fact that he had never actually laid eyes on him before.
His wide-eyed, innocent gaze returned to the man’s invisible ones, and he pointed this time to the glasses that obscured his view. “She said you wear them all the time. Do you have eyes?” He asked brashly. Apparently, this was more of a pressing concern than the help he had just stated he required.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 3, 2017 1:11:08 GMT
illuminated by the light of nearby lamps, the cigarette’s smoke lazily drifted upwards, offering the only movement as Allan tried to determine who this child was. The cigarette was held firm in his mouth, although the angle had dropped slightly at realizing that a child had snuck up on him.
A five year old, no less.
Allan remained still, quietly taking his measure of the child. He had already checked, the boy couldn’t have wandered off from someone, as the place was quickly growing quiet. Aside from the kid, of course.
The near accusation had him tense, but fortunately not twitch. As much as the drinking had dulled his nerves, he couldn’t help but feel edgy around the child. Who knew what he had done before? Before he could respond to the accusation, however, the boy had gone on, quite serious, explaining Allan could “help him.”
“Help with what?” Allan asked, aware he had voiced the question only a moment after he had finished. It was a question asked in utter confusion, which didn’t help his tension in dealing with a child. How long had it been since he had last even seen a child? Especially one so young and alone on Aurelias. The boy proved to be brave indeed, coming close to peer around him, Allan’s gaze following as he too glanced around, as if maybe someone could give him the answers he was seeking, and that the boy seemed to think he could offer in return.
Perhaps it was the child’s audacity with a stranger that got him to respond as he did. Perhaps he felt just a little twinge of parental instinct and knew that the child was not safe alone in the dark. Whatever the reason, as the child questioned him so innocently about his glasses, Allan’s gaze softened. He didn’t even ask who “she” was. To be asked about his eyes… a second generation at least, not to know what sunglasses covered.
Pulling away from the wall, Allan knelt down, still having to bend a little to bring his eyes to the boy’s height. The cigarette in one hand, he pulled the glasses from his face, trying to keep his eyes open even for a few moments in the light that agitated them so. He could almost feel the pupils tightening to restrict the light coming in, despite being in the shadow of a building. “Yes, I have eyes,” he said gently, perhaps even more so than necessary.
What he didn’t realize was that the pupil that narrowed didn’t become a dot, but a slit, the stripes of the iris guiding the levels and pattern of the glow. It wasn’t an intense glow, but rather a blue-green iridescence, only visible when close and in the shadows as they were. What was the most remarkable, however, was that the narrow slitted pupil was not dark, in fact it carried its own light, brighter than the rest. It was an eerie effect, particularly since it mirrored that of any predator that had been seen on Aurelias.
After a few moments his eyes finally narrowed and closed, the glasses put on quickly even as he resisted the curse, again seeing spots of light dancing in his closed eyes from trying to keep his eyes open so wide for so long. “I can’t handle… bright light,” he explained, despite knowing he didn’t really have to. But it wasn’t like he wanted the kid to have the wrong impression about why he had pulled back after only a few moments.
As things came back into clarity, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, Allan looked the kid over once more, finally asking the first question that had come to mind. “What are you doing out here alone?”
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 3, 2017 1:26:40 GMT
The child did not even flinch as the stranger leant forwards, clearly trusting in his instincts, or perhaps what he thought he knew, about the man. When Allan removed his glasses though… the child’s mouth visibly dropped open. He did not link the strange eyes with the wildlife, he had hardly even seen anymore than a glimpse of the creatures on the planet, so protected as he (usually) was. It wasn’t until the man straightened back up, did he finally exclaim- “Your eyes are so blue!” It didn’t quite illustrate the meaning he had intended, but articulation can be difficult for a child of his age… He tried again, evidentially excited “I want eyes like that!” he announced.
He quietened though as he reconsidered what the man had said, having spoken over him. He paused as the words registered, looked surprised, as if the man should know what he was doing out here. “Looking for Ariane, of course!” He announced, crossing his arms impatiently. “I thought I could remember the way from when mommy comes here, but I forgot.” He added, sadly, arms falling back to his sides again. He quickly brightened, however. “But it’s okay because now you are here and you are a friend, you can take me to her.” His logic, to himself at least, was infallible.
((Short, but straight to the point, haha))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 3, 2017 1:52:58 GMT
Had his glasses still been off, the boy would have seen a very surprised blink. Blue? His were grey… pale, yes, and in the mix of shadows… well, perhaps they were blue tinged at the moment. This explanation faltered a little when the boy went on to express a desire for similar eyes. What was so special about grey, or even blue eyes?
Finally, Allan’s question had gotten through to the child, who responded as if the answer should be obvious. His answer, however, was more of a surprise than having his eyes be something so desirable to a five year old.
“Ariane?” he repeated albeit softly, feeling his confusion grow as the boy began to talk about his mother and Ariane in turns. Wait… was Ariane… his mother? No… no there wasn’t enough of an age gap. The child’s logic managed to escape Allan, although the term “friend” reminded him of how “she” apparently talked about him a great deal.
But if she did… what did she say? What was he to her, if this boy could so easily assume that he was safe? Allan knelt again, understanding at least that there would need to be some… clarification.
“Well… Ariane’s still busy with… work. But… I’ll stay until she’s done. Alright?”
The last was an actual question, a test to see if the child would actually behave himself for someone who had no idea how to deal with a precocious child.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 3, 2017 2:08:54 GMT
“Okay!” The boy announced, pleased with the stranger’s willingness to co-operate. Abruptly, he sat down on the bottom step of a metal staircase leading up the side of a house, and began to chatter to him, evidentially rather content to pass the time that way. “Ariane works a lot, and she says I shouldn’t come here but I don’t really like Malik. He’s mean, so I thought I’d come see Ariane. Momma says when I’m six I’ll be an adult and I can work too! How old are you? You are an adult, aren’t you?” And the stream continued, only pausing to listen to the answers before firing off another question.
Ariane was glad to be finishing up. As always, everyone except her mother and herself had left by this point. Angelika was currently sat on the bar, one leg up as she leant against the wall, the other hanging down. She was busy trying to broach the subject once more about Ariane letting Tristan work in the bar, although she had yet to explicitly mention it, her daughter knew that her mother was just beating about the bush and working up to it with meaningless chatter. Eventually, she got the hint that it was not for discussion… at least for now, and jumped off the bar with a huff. “Don’t forget to lock up.” Was all she said as she left, leaving out the back door. Ariane knew that she would not be heading home; she would probably not see her again until the early hours of the next morning. With a sigh, she finished up, the last thing to do was to turn off the lights and lock the front door. This was the moment she dreaded… losing the illusion of safety for a few seconds before stepping out into the dim light of the street lamps. Only once outside and away from the pitch-black, did she finally relax a little, exhaling gently. Now, for the walk home, the second thing she always dreaded, as she felt herself steadily tense again… She would walk fast, as she always did, keeping as much in the light as physically possible, and lift her chin, trying to appear as if she were not frightened. So far, that had been enough to dissuade any passers by from trying their luck.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 3, 2017 4:19:48 GMT
The boy readily complied, repositioning himself to wait. Still looking rather lost, despite still wearing the glasses, Allan followed, leaning against the railing in what could only be described as a protective stance as he found he had to relight the cigarette, a refreshed trail of smoke slipping into the sky.
For once, Allan’s recent tendency to answer questions with as few words as possible was useful, for no sooner had the one or two word reply be said than the boy was off on a new tangent, his questions bouncing in a way comprehensible only to him. The boy also hardly gave Allan a chance to consider what snippets he could get about his home life, which he wanted to hear. It was, according to the child, also Ariane’s. HIs mind was able to hang onto a few key words, a few important ideas; Malik, someone who was somehow not part of the family, somehow “mean.” His mother was the one who brought Malik home. Ariane and her mother worked at the bar.
Her mother? All he could recall offhand was one woman, older, but… she was always eager to please the men around her. Something about her… something made him bristle. Maybe it was because she often pandered to the same men he would have to fend off of Ariane. Maybe it was because her interactions with Ariane left the young woman tense. Her name… what was her name? Allan hadn’t bothered to learn any names other than Ariane’s.
But again, before his mind could fully evaluate the information he was slowly and uncertainly gleaning from the child, he was again on about something seemingly random, impatiently prodding for an answer when Allan took too long to reply. In the back of his mind, he noticed the sound of a door closing, someone stepping out into the night. But they walked away, and instinctively, he knew that the person was no threat, nor were they of importance. Something in the air, something heard, something sensed… he knew.
It was how he also knew to look towards the front of the bar as another door closed, having learned the sound of her footsteps months before. Her step was strong, steady, trying to avoid interaction from those she passed. It was a look he remembered when he first started coming to the bar, when she was still afraid of him. Allan noticed her before the boy, not needing to listen to instinct to know the boy was there simply because he was still chatting away. But Ariane was not expecting the boy, Allan knew already, and her pace would swiftly have her out of sight. So he called out to her, pushing away from the stairs as he readied to leave.
“Ariane.”
It was, perhaps, the first time he spoke her name in her presence, having always focused on his short answers to her prompts. There was enough concern that she would walk away, and he would have to carry the boy to her, that it came out in his voice, as if willing her to stop and come to him. The uncertainty in his voice also came from not knowing if she still feared him or not.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 4, 2017 21:07:19 GMT
Hearing her name made her falter in her step, looking around to see whom had spoken before she chose to actually stop. Only when her eyes alighted on Allan did she pause. A look of surprise overcame her features, which softened soon after. “Oh, it's you,” She began, smile forming, but the surprise soon returned and the smile faded with a widening of the eyes as she saw another familiar face…
“Ariane!” The young boy spoke excitedly, running up to her. He half-leaped into her arms, and she was quick to catch him. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?” She asked, alarmed. Tristan pulled out of the hug so that he could look at her, still supported by her arms. “Malik was being mean.” He scrunched up his nose in distaste as he spoke. Ariane looked from her brother to Allan, as if waiting to see him confirm her brother’s story, but one look at his face revealed that he knew nothing about the situation. “So… you came here all alone?” She pressed, attention turning back to the child in her arms, trying to get a grasp of the situation. He nodded mutely, before announcing; rather proudly- “I met your friend!”
Ariane looked towards Allan again, and looked at a loss of what to say. In the end, she settled with- “This… is my brother, Tristan.” The child interjected quickly, then. “He was waiting with me for when you came out.” Tristan added helpfully. Ariane looked embarrassed then as she fumbled to thank him. For all she liked Allan… she had been worried to see Tristan in his company. It was one thing to have the girlish fantasy of the noble man she believed him to be, and quite another to see the man she had known to beat down countless men... guarding her younger brother.
“Thank you…”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 4, 2017 23:32:17 GMT
As always, Ariane’s responses were carefully watched, so he saw the smile begin only to fade. It was the boy who answered which expression was for who, as he launched himself forward and nearly tackled her. As the reunion went on, Allan found himself wondering what had kept him from reacting to the boy’s charge – and why he had felt like reacting at all.
He was quickly able to return his focus to the present, the boy again referring to Malik as “mean.” Children of that age, Allan knew, had… interesting ways of describing people. It was why the child’s description of Allan made him pause, uncertain if he should move in, or simply leave.
The repeated use of the term “mean,” however, kept Allan in place. His hesitation led to having to linger as Ariane began to address him, introducing the boy. In turn, Tristan was quick to explain Allan’s presence, she growing uncertain as she found a way to thank him.
Allan hadn’t really intended to be silent through the entire scene, watching with his usual mask of stillness even though his eyes were focused with their usual intensity. With Ariane, his gaze was always focused, but he wasn’t fully aware of how intense they became with her. As the attention had been turned to him, Allan let his gaze drop, visible in his head tilting down a little.
“You’re welcome.”
Simple words, followed by a turn, intending to go home. There was no point in staying, or Ariane’s gaze might grow frightened again. He wanted to avoid that.
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