The Ties That Bind
By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko
Edited by: Ainzfern
Key Pairing: Iason/Riki, Raoul/Katze
Rating: Mature
Parts: WIP – 1 of 7
Reviews are fuel.
Chapter One – Omnia Vanitas
The tinted windows of the limousine diffused the golden rays of the morning sun enhancing in its shimmer that exquisitely sculpted face in a delicate caress of blue gray hues. Symmetry, simply perfect symmetry whose lines were impeccably caste in harmony reminded Katze of a sculpture.
Iason was a study of inhuman perfection, his pore-less skin incandescent. It was almost as if the skin of that exquisite face had been lit from within, framed and enhanced as it was with a wealth of opalescent silvery strands that billowed slightly with the shifting winds of the partially opened window.
Katze's veiled amber eyes returned their distant gaze to the vistas before him deep in thought. He heard the deep inhalation and levelled another meditative, sidelong glance at the preternaturally flawless and wholly self contained being across from him.
He could wait. His initial fears having been allayed. Not once had there been a threatening move since being forcefully yet carefully thrust into the back of the vehicle. Perhaps the gig was not up. He would wait for the opportune moment to query. This wasn't it. Given as Iason was to quixotic bouts of intense anger, there was no point in getting on his Excellency's bad side now.
Not that is until he had evaluated all the possible outcomes of this little trip.
Iason's stillness was palpable to the ex-Furniture and discomforting however. Though the familiar face wore its usual implacable cloak of indifference, the shifting blue gaze that he felt occasionally pass over his own stoic visage was rife with tumult and speculation. He too was waiting.
The black market dealer almost smiled ruefully; stalemate.
Each carefully slow inhalation of his former Master bespoke a question to Katze's well trained ears. This was not the time to give an inch, to supplicate.
Another breath which almost demanded a response from the dealer, but none came from the object of Iason's growing frustrated study. Once again, the moment passed as Iason returned the pale blue intensity of his gaze to the passing scene, his lips thinning markedly.
It really was Katze's move.
"Mind if I smoke, your Excellency?"
"If you must," Iason answered dispassionately, flicking a gloved finger in the direction of the ex-Furniture feigning ennui. "No questions then about our destination?"
The mongrel shook his head slowly and lit his retrieved smoke before inhaling as he adjusted his window. It was subtle but there would have been a time not so long ago when he would have felt it incumbent to ask permission to take such a liberty in so august a company.
No point now.
Pointedly the mongrel shifted his reclined pose and elegantly blew smoke through the window, his eyes watching the gossamer like strands shift and weave there way rapidly away from sight, peripherally noting the golden glow of the retreating towers as the vehicle turned heading for a familiar artery. Funny, they should have gone further than this by now. It was almost as if they were taking a circuitous route, if so why and to where exactly? The hallowed sanctum was in the other direction.
"Nope, I trust you have your reasons, Sir Mink. It is never for me to question said, considering we have been travelling via the scenic route. I simply assumed you were making sure we have not been followed. The fact that the usual retinue of security has kept their distance sufficiently to remain virtually undetectable implies this clandestine meeting about to take place will end one of two ways."
That deep exhalation again followed by palpable silence before a curt nod of acknowledgement.
"Ahh yes, ever the astute one, Katze, well played. One tends to marvel at how succinct and mindfully accurate you are in your surmises with just a hint of prudent retreat for good measure. How does Raoul tolerates this irritating aspect of your nature, I wonder?"
Katze bowed. It has been a calculated guess on his part, based on years of knowing the eclectic and mercurial male across from him.
"Jupiter commands an audience with you of all things. I am merely facilitating this atypical request."
The term 'things' had not been lost on the mongrel and his lips pursed briefly, acknowledging the intended slight for his former Master's benefit.
"Of course, your Excellency, I will do my best. Is there something I should know about this coming encounter? Something I should be prepared to address?"
Katze could feel the penetrating stare upon his face; hear the shift of long elegant limbs crossing as the Elite weighed the merits of his next question, for surely it was a question based upon the protracted length of time Iason was taking in order to gauge his true feelings about this unprecedented rendezvous.
Jupiter had never chosen to communicate with one such as he before, at least not willingly.
The dealer felt a cold chill pass through him and he involuntarily shuddered before adjusting his jacket. How odd, just as it came it went quickly replaced by soothing warmth emboldening his confident stance.
"As in?" Iason intoned, pale eyes glittering coldly as he watched those long fingers return to the mongrel's lips with the filter tip. For just a moment there, Katze had been off his game before the shroud of abstract stoicism returned to his perfectly imperfect face.
"No disrespect intended, your Excellency."
Iason inclined his head indulgently. Mongrels, a most fascinating sub species so filled with chaotic emotions that even the truly adept of their breed could fall prey when least expected. "Go on."
"Call it a gut feeling but this meeting pertain to Sir Am, doesn't it? I would not wish our current understanding to ill affect your most trusted confidante, Iason."
The dealer saw the subtle shift of expression in the flawless countenance as pale lips quirked in victory. Katze had used his given name intentionally.
"I am genuinely intrigued, Katze. Why do you hold such," another lengthy pause as the Blondie chose his words carefully and adjusted his silken tone to elicit a false sense of bonhomie, "fascination for Sir Am and, for that matter, he you?"
Katze turned, golden eyes regarding the Elite curiously beneath long lashes. He flicked the spent butt through the window, gathering his thoughts.
"Might I dare to ask the same of you, Sir Mink?"
Iason's frame became instantly rigid. He glared threateningly down his nose in censure at the dealer. "I beg your pardon, Katze? You are on the verge of overstepping."
"I meant Riki, your Excellency, certainly not Raoul Am."
"Not up for discussion, Katze, rephrase immediately. You are in no position to query my predilections, regardless of the leeway I have allowed in our dealings. Do remember who is whom in this conversation."
It was Katze's turn to bridle subtly, his pale features assuming a stony cast as the Elite continued.
"I am not Raoul, who appears to have lost all sense of propriety when it comes to his dealings with your less than subtle tongue in matters of innuendo."
Katze lowered his head, feigning obeisance as he assumed a suitably contrite expression.
"That won't work either, Katze. Answer the question." Iason snapped softly, shooting his sleeves with finality.
"We all know attraction cannot be easily explained or dismissed, your Excellency. It just is, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. Sir Am and I have been doing this dance for years now. At least we have come to some semblance of peace with it, more than can be said for many in the given situation."
Katze watched as Iason visibly recoiled not in body per say but of mind, pale lips thinning to a menacing line as his lower jaw worked subtly beneath smooth ivory skin. Too close to home. Why hadn't he stopped himself? Ahh well, it needed to be said. However, he would choose his next words more carefully, survival being what it was. If nothing else, he needed to protect Raoul.
The dealer shrugged, his shoulders slowly slumping as he chuckled, not sharing the thought within that saw a quizzical silvery brow raise in confusion.
"I won't give it a name, Sir Mink, but it has a tendency to mess with one's logic and makes you do all kinds of things you never imagined you would. So yes, if put to it, I want to protect Raoul Am. He means everything to me."
Iason pursed his lips, growing uncomfortable under the knowing golden gaze. "Wholly irrational response, considering. I expect better of you."
The dealer sighed and lowered his window again, looking out blankly into space. Donovan and Kato would know what to do when sufficient time had passed and he didn't login.
"Sorry to disappoint, your Excellency. Don't feel like being clever right about now. Tell me what to expect, if that is not too much to ask. I don't suppose I'll actually be returning from this appointment, another gut feeling."
"Interesting, no intriguing actually," Iason murmured softly. "I never took you to be selfless."
Katze never bothered to respond as they entered the darken tunnel, too busy with his own internal preoccupations to bite. He had been right. They were heading back all along via a circuitous tunnel system towards what was euphemistically called the Cathedral.
He had brought Iason here often enough to recognize the route. Ironic really that this time, would be the last time and all for an exceptional fuck, he chided himself. It would be the eyes he would miss, they spoke volumes. A man could be lost in the depths of those warm, verdant pools and the calming breath and giving nature of the body that would be nothing but a pleasing memory soon.
~~~TTTB~~~
Genuine leather, nothing smelt like it. Nothing felt like it against the skin.
Riki smirked while his fingers smoothly guided the zipper up adjusting the snap of near on leggings with how indecently they clung to his wiry, well proportioned limbs.
Nice fit if he said so himself.
Yeah, these were fuckin' perfect. They should be; made to order, black as midnight and supple to the touch. Say what you would about that overgrown psycho prick, he made sure Riki wanted for nothing, except freedom.
Gone were the days of the imitation shit created in labs and sold for an Elite's ransom by those makeshift, nomadic vendors that frequented Ceres' side streets of a night. Hawking their wares to the unsuspecting.
The dark mongrel winked at his reflection vaguely amused by a passing thought. When had he actually bought a pair? Try never. No need really with Bison's exceptional ability to negotiate through intimidation.
Amazing the kind of understanding that could be wrought with a knife just so at a dealer's throat, usually Guy's.
Riki efficiently pulled his black tee over his head and perched at the end of the bed, legs wide splayed. Needed to get some flex into the leathers for comforts sake, his eyes wandered to his boots neatly aligned by Cal. Finally the damn man had given up placing them in the closet, after they were unceremoniously kicked off each night, falling where they may to Iason's perpetual annoyance.
Compromise at least with one member of the household, of late he had not felt the need to have them go sailing across the room choosing instead to toe them off and pretty much place them in the same spot, sparing Cal the task of neatening.
They sat dutifully against the wall each morning, scuff marks and all. Iason hated them with a passion, probably why Riki loved them. Still got a kick over Iason's impotent glares each time his eyes fell upon them, willing them to die a most painful death for offending his aesthetic sensibilities.
Riki chuckled. Iason really had no idea how funny he was and how easy it was to put his nose out of joint for the simplest things. Like the one time he had deigned to show up with his retinue at the club to find Riki in a grudge match over the pool table with credits on the line. Okay so he'd been three sheets to the wind and somewhat inclined to being flirtatious with the rival player, but what the fuck was he doing there anyway?
It was the sudden silence in the smoky back room why he'd looked up into blazing irises. For a moment there it looked like he was for it, then he remembered the cause of the intent gaze, as liquid blue rage shifted its focus from his face to the tanned hand resting casually about the shoulder of one of Katze's female stable.
Considering the Mimea incident which had started the feud with Raoul in the first place, definitely had not been wise. Even today, the fucker had a way of looking at him sideways which told the dark mongrel all might have been forgiven but not forgotten.
The dark mongrel shivered involuntarily.
Fuck that had been a hard couple weeks, never quite sure when Iason's towering rages would get the better of him in payback.
Riki stood and padded across the bedroom in his socked feet to the boots, sliding his feet into them, comforted by the well worn fit. They had seen better days and did nothing for the outfit but they'd do.
Maybe he'd indulge today. Find a vendor and actually pay for a new pair. None of the costly shit in the Atrium appealed anyway; too fancy, too soft and definitely not riding gear.
What he needed was in Ceres.
A sable brow arched at the tanned reflection with evident amusement in dark eyes as he pondered the reality of his past transactions, if you could call them that. It was the cost of doing business to offer samples of the lukewarm merchandise the vendors had heisted. The way Riki's crew saw it nothing more than an equitable means for the dealers to secure their pitch for another week before moving out of Bison territory.
Yeah, those were the days. You took what you needed; end of.
He gave one final cursory glance in the mirror and nodded absently.
You really did get what you paid for.
"Cal!" Riki shouted, cutting short the disturbing thought, at what price?
He needed to get out, maybe check in on Katze. Red should be back at the club by now. Surely Iason would not protest? Hell, he wouldn't protest the mandatory dumb shits that followed behind his bike for security's sake. Might give them the ride of their lives even and break up the monotony of their day by flouting the speed limit.
Riki sniggered to himself imagining the white knuckle grips on the steering wheels in hot pursuit just as Cal appeared in the room with a suitably inquiring expression.
"I'm going out for a bit, alert the crash test dummies."
Cal inclined his head, looking somewhat relieved at the prospect. The Mongrel had been underfoot in the last hour, wholly abandoning his usual perch on the balcony and upsetting the morning routine by following him about as he saw to his household routine. It was the incessant questions that had nearly driven the Furniture to distraction about the ex-Furniture and more to the point, the whereabouts of the Master.
"The Atrium, Sir Riki?"
"Nah, Depraved, too boring around here. No one to talk to, no offence, Cal."
"Understood. None taken, Sir Riki."Cal blinked rapidly as he hemmed and hawed. "Not that it is my place Sir, but the Master did not take kindly to your last..."
"Yeah, I was there, Cal, remember? No repeat performances, I promise. My ass can't take it. I'll be back in a couple hours. No big deal. Stop worrying."
The Furniture flinched at the too personal addendum. He did not wish to recall the night in question. As importunate as this Mongrel was, he was disarmingly likeable and relatively good company when not overly inquisitive. The young man was bored and listless. He understood the need for something to occupy his time. Permission had been previously granted for such interludes.
"I'm allowed and won't overstay my welcome this time, so relax. Might even beat him back; by the way, did he mention where he was going in such a hurry this morning?"
Riki watched through narrowed eyes the nervous fretful motions of Cal's fingers as they clasped and unclasped, dead giveaway. He damn well knew where Iason was. No point pressing. He'd find out soon enough. He really needed to see Katze, more than ever. Iason had been all kinds of wrong this morning almost twitchy in his regard and ridiculously compliant.
"It's a good day for one of your outings on that beast, Sir Riki. Enjoy. Please be back in a timely fashion. I will alert your security detail."
Riki nodded, dark eyes fixed on the troubled features before him as he retrieved his weathered leather jacket from the foot of the bed and followed the Furniture out into the main living space. Where Cal retrieved the recent gift of the monitored collar and handed it to the less than amenable Mongrel who grabbed it and affixed it about his throat with a bland expression.
Well it was either that or the cock ring.
He'd learnt to pick his battles and anyway, it looked kinda hot.
"Yeah, you do that."
Absently he patted down his jacket with furrowed brows. "Seen my Com anywhere? I could have sworn I left it in the pocket."
"Ahhh yes, I apologize for not having recharged it. Afraid it is quite useless at the moment, Sir Riki. Might I be allowed to offer you my own? Limited as its frequencies are, it should suffice in the interim."
"S'okay, never mind. No harm done."
Oh fuck yeah, something was up. Was it a co-incidence that Iason had been hovering over the jacket earlier when he had come back into the bedroom? Hell no!
~~~TTTB~~~
Warm, fragrant tea; there really was nothing like it to soothe frayed nerves.
Each sip a respite in stilted conversation; a moment to think, to adjust tone as one interspersed pleasantries to disguise the thrust and parry of sharpened wits currently borne upon a knife's edge.
Sir Niiro was not having a good day.
Not that it would be readily apparent to untrained eyes. No. To the shallow, those easily distracted, he looked unperturbed.
Carefree in fact, heartily amused by his own word play which apparently was falling on deaf ears in the less than companionable silence that followed each flippant barrage meant to appease and or cajole.
Raoul was having none of it, choosing instead protracted silences to still the mindless prattling before picking up where the Chief Medical Officer of Tanagura left off in his inquiry.
"How convenient for Sakura, under the circumstances wouldn't you say, Sir Niiro, this sudden uncharacteristic need for off-world amusements and pointless distractions? I have always perceived him as a lab rat myself, never more content than when dissecting something, preferably alive."
The Ruby beamed pleasantly over the rim of his cup and shrugged indolently. "Much prefer Nii Nii myself. It adds a certain joie to an otherwise less than amiable repartee, don't you think, Raoul?"
"You will suffice, Nii Nii. He is, or should I say was, your protégé after all."
A pointed silence followed as both Elites glared at one another for a fraction of a second.
Sir Niiro inclined his head decorously before taking another delicate sip. "Much better, even if I resent the implication of your verb tense. You were saying, dear boy?"
"What of the three bodies in question one of which was obviously, my Katze."
A flash of a long braid, brought round and twirled expertly, indicated Raoul had hit the mark, he continued.
"I base my conjecture on your own verbose outburst the other night. If I might hazard an educated guess the other two were Riki and one assumes Guy, the bane of Iason's existence?"
Sir Niiro huffed, placing the delicate porcelain cup upon his knee and glowered, still twirling the end of his thick braid, but more slowly now as he strove for time. There really was no way to avoid the subject at hand.
Raoul reached for his own untouched cup on the low table and settled back awaiting the tirade to come. Nii Nii was nothing if not predictable when he did not get his way in a conversational gambit, might even prove amusing to watch the drama unfold.
"Why must that tiresome little plaything of yours infest every conversation we have of late? What of social pleasantries, Raoul? What of manners?"
The Chief Medical Officer sighed and sniffed the fragrant brew contemplatively.
"The fact that you remain upright sans contusions and very much in control of your mental faculties, ie waspish wit, should suffice re observed niceties. Don't push it, Nii Nii."
That bitter bit of tannin was pleasing to his tongue. He really must see about complimenting Deek for his morning choice of tea. Raoul swallowed and dabbed his lips with the pristine white napkin before refolding it one handed and placing it upon his knee for emphasis. Most pleasing indeed, even the temperature was just right. Deek had surpassed himself, but then again, his favourite guest was about the premises.
"Well? I'm waiting."
Sir Niiro abruptly stood, spilling his tea.
Raoul wagered intentionally so as to shift the medical man's focus. True to form the elegant dark clad being began to stalk in front of the floor to ceiling windows with evident irritation at being countered.
Emerald green eyes hooded. Katze would have called this move playing for time. He could out wait this pique. Sir Niiro's current fit was worth savouring. He would leave him to stew to flavourful perfection.
The caged beast currently stalking the library while glaring out the floor to ceiling windows was on the verge of stewing, his vituperative mouth a thin line in an otherwise exceptionally beautiful face.
Raoul gracefully rose and retrieved the fallen cup, placing it silently on the low table, before retrieving a fresh one, time to pour and get this conversation back on solid ground.
"Nii Nii? Are you quite done with your...moment or do you require a few more minutes to plot before chastising my methods?"
A whirl of dark silk and piercing eyes raked the Blondie up and down hatefully.
"I do have a few pressing appointments this morning. So if we could continue without the tedious obfuscating, it would be appreciated."
"Yes! Damn you! If you must know of course they were! Neither of you seemed all that interested at the time, so bent on your little game of discovering flaws in the curricula. Why so bloody interested now?" the Ruby shot back accusingly, gloved fingers digging into the back of the couch with rage.
Despite his hackles being raised, Raoul had to admit it was a valid question that merited a response. The irony of Riki's presence in Iason's household had not been lost on the Chief Medical Officer. What would Iason have done differently had he known a simply inquisitive theory would come back to haunt and share his bed a decade later.
"Things have changed. One gains perspective with the passage of time. We, none of us, knew where the anomaly might lead."
The Ruby snorted indelicately. "Not quite, dear boy. One's lower extremities have found a pleasing sheath for the immediate that just so happens to coincide with my findings. Lest you forget, you left it to me to do the tedious exploring, refusing to take part for fear of censor."
Raoul pursed his lips, refusing to be baited as the Ruby rounded the couch with an air of disgust and fatigue etched cold amber eyes absently looking about the room eventually falling upon the silver box atop the desk, its lid tightly closed.
"Still closed I see," he murmured to no one in particular as he sat, a rueful smile playing about his lips.
Momentary, perhaps even an illusion but Raoul could have sworn he saw inconsolable loss, nay sadness marring that perfectly aquiline visage before that diffident gaze returned to Raoul's own.
"Everywhere I look, he's there. I wish to Jupiter and back his ilk had been left to rot on Remus as intended."
"Meaning?" Raoul snapped, placing his now empty cup upon the table.
"Meaning, Raoul Am, this disgusting travesty of an inquisition could well have been avoided had personal vanity not entered the equation. A waste of a mind bent on seeking your collective approval and for what?"
For the first time Raoul noticed the Ruby's hand shook as he raised the cup to his lips. Still, only one word chosen word struck him by implication.
"Intended?"
Amber eyes danced as they examined the dregs in the bottom of the cup before returning it to the scarred wooden table.
"Yes, Raoul intended. That didn't take long. You are very much on your game, my dear."
The Blondie's brows worked in consternation as he leaned forward. "Who intended, exactly, Nii Nii? You speak in riddles. No more games."
A soft dejected huff left well formed lips, even the eyes that had looked accusingly before lessened in its malice, becoming almost haunted as they examined gloved fingers, spotting the taint of the previous spill with bemused brows.
"Fact. I am going on hired hearsay, Raoul Am. That of men unused to divulging their methodologies for retrieval or disposal once assigned a task."
"Yes, go on."
Sir Niiro bit his lower lip, still studying the stain upon his glove.
"Men like this rarely indulge in fantasy. They are not inclined to make fatuous statements that might call their abilities or state of mind into question."
The Blondie nodded impatiently, biding the Ruby go on.
"Sakura was the first to inform me of their consistent debriefs verging on superstitious twaddle. I dismissed it, putting it all down to humanoid predisposition for trifling fantasy that is often found in the less educated members of the Commonwealth's citizenry."
Raoul heart leapt into his mouth. "The organic variety of the humanoid species does show this tendency for things they cannot rationally explain, yes?"
The Ruby pursed his lips as he organized his thoughts, removing the soiled glove as an afterthought, while studying Raoul's implacable expression.
"True and hence I quelled my own suppositions putting down their recall to the fear of the unknown. Hmmm, anyway, I could no longer dismiss the consistencies in the reports."
"Out with it, Nii Nii! Stop trying my patience. What were their findings?"
Sir Niiro ignored the outburst as ungloved fingers snapped. "Suffice it to say, dear boy, you should consider your thawed plaything some manner of revered relic come to life, if how he was entombed was anything to go by in his youth. Someone went to a great deal of trouble to preserve him."
"What?" Raoul rose abruptly, almost overturning the coffee table and its contents.
Sir Niiro tutted and crossed long limbs with satisfaction. Finally the shoe was firmly planted on the other foot, Raoul was in shock.
"I think we should have Deek bring through another pot, don't you? You look in need of something to put a bit of colour in those cheeks of yours and as for myself, feeling a bit peckish. Didn't have time for breakfast, what with having to roam hither and thither before the crack of dawn, don't you know?"
The Ruby patted the couch companionably before regarding his fingers in genuine curiosity.
"Raoul, have you ever noticed how exceedingly gratifying touch is without gloves?"
All he heard was the studied trill not individuated words.
Sir Niiro was suddenly in fine fettle, if his tonality was anything to go by. Somehow Raoul sat. Deek came in, more chatter and unctuous preening on both their parts. The wretched Furniture had always had a soft spot for the Ruby, Jupiter only knew why.
Distantly Raoul heard the click of the door behind the Furniture and the clink of cutlery at his side. He'd always known something was off with his Katze and as for the others. Well, it explained much. Conjecture had just become fact. What to do with it however and more to the point, he needed to speak with Iason, who still remained out of the loop.
"Finally I can get a word in edgewise and it proves no fun, pity."
Somewhere in the fog that had overtaken his usually rational mind, Raoul recognized the upward lilt of a questioning tone. Sir Niiro expected a response. He watched in stupor as a fork went to the pale lips that were smirking as were the radiantly malevolent eyes drinking his expression in.
"As I was saying, would it be too much to inquiry about that other little relic upon your desk? Amusingly enough it is how I made the connection with your Mongrel. It belongs to the tiresome wretch, if you can believe it."
"What connection?" Raoul murmured still in a daze.
Sir Niiro delicately tapped the tines of the fork against his lower lip as he mused.
"Yeeeeeeeees, most disconcerting; imagine my chagrin upon discovering its actual existence and the implications of it for all our kind, if those oft told tales in Ceres are true. Turns out those pathetic little legends might have some semblance of validity hitherto thought nay impossible. It could explain quite a bit as to our Maker's disposition to the Naturals and why certain strains still occur despite our best attempt at curtailing their evolution beyond servility. It is not in actuality a musical device. I have yet to be able to open it successfully without damaging it. Seems to require some form of bio-signature, haven't quite worked that out yet or its actual origins. All I know is that it belonged to the First One, a fact most probably known to our circumspect Jupiter."
Raoul blinked and thought better of volunteering what had happened while in Kato's presence and for that matter a few hours before with both his and Katze's fingers had been intertwined atop the antiquated device.
An artfully malicious moue curved into a sneer. "And if the current look on your face is to be believed, you are aware of this fact, too Raoul. It is your turn to share, purely from a scientific perspective of course, my dear."
"I have nothing to add at this time."
Sir Niiro chewed, forking another moist morsel, studying the confection on the tines of the fork as he mused aloud.
"I know. Makes one pause doesn't it? Here we thought ourselves the pinnacle of humanoid existence and imposed evolution, the Chosen. Could it be we are just the actual experiment currently favoured? All remade to order setting to right a defect."
The Ruby shrugged lazily. "Well, a perceived mistake made by the unfortunates of the Abyss' crew, never to be repeated. Again, just conjecture on my part. Being outcast has its merits; gives one time to think, my dear."
"But we are the higher order on this planet, we rule by Jupiter's auspices. No others come before us."
Sir Niiro nodded absently as he chewed.
"Yes and what of the fodder or the avaricious citizenry, happily deluded in their mercenary pursuits that serve only one and allowed to breed as reward, but none too much; what of them Raoul Am?"
Raoul pursed his lips, "Your point?"
"When all is said and done whom do we serve, Raoul? What is our collective purpose? Have you never thought to question the order of things, then again, why would you?"
"What a ridiculous question, we serve Jupiter's beneficent will. This line of conversation is over."
"Yes, but to what end? Are we not fodder too just with a better view?"
"Chew on that for a bit." The ingenuous pat upon his knee meant to comfort made Raoul stay the urge to recoil. "The question was rhetorical, dear boy. Process while I finish this scrumptious bit of sin your manservant has provided. You haven't a clue what an absolute treasure, Deek is; One in a million, that man of yours."
For once Raoul was thankful for Sir Niiro's incessant babbling and frippery. Katze had been entombed. It begged two questions, why and by whom? There was no point in pursuing the thought in the current company bent on twisting the emotional knife.
A gentle apologetic rap came to Raoul's hearing as Sir Niiro turned expectantly and regarded the door only to be greeted by the sight of Deek and the importunate dark mongrel who sidled around him without any by-your-leave, onyx eyes fixed on Sir Niiro, a fraction longer than was strictly polite before gliding over Raoul's face with narrowed, speculative eyes.
Raoul rose defensively, not appreciating the suspect gaze of the Mongrel.
"Good morning, Riki. What may I do for you?"
"Forgive the interruption, Sir Am, was wondering if you knew where Katze was headed this morning. Neither Donovan or I are able to raise him on his Com."
Riki's expressive eyes fixed upon Sir Niiro meaningfully. "I'm assuming he's left, considering present company?"
"Touche, little mongrel, the collar about your neck becomes you. One should always see about keeping rabid dogs tethered. Where is your Master by the way? Should you not be asking this question of him?"
Snorting softly, Riki let the comment pass as he leaned against the wall and glared. "Good one, Sir Niiro, don't make me hold you up or anything."
"Riki..." Raoul intoned warningly, nodding for Deek to leave as he reached for his own personal communication device and hit speed dial with a fluttering heart.
No response.
Turning towards Raoul, the Ruby rose and inclined his head with feigned decorum, noting the fretful green eyed gaze focussed on the Com, his own presence completely forgotten.
"I believe that is my cue to exit."
Raoul nodded indifferently. "Deek, see about his things. Riki come through."
Malicious amber eyes gazed at the pensive Blondie in the middle of the room before turning their slow venomous appraisal to the dark mongrel propped against the door's frame, blocking his path.
If looked could kill indeed, Deek thought.
"You really should see about getting your willowy plaything something similar, but a tad less gauche in appearance. He has, though I am loath to admit it, some semblance of taste in his chosen attire, unlike some given to common display."
"Speaking of common displays, Sir Niiro, who does your hair?" Riki added lazily as he moved out of the Ruby's way, very slowly.
Raoul looked up with an exasperated sigh. The Mongrel existed to play with fire.
"That is quite enough, Riki. Just come through and sit. We will get to the bottom of this. Good day, Sir Niiro. Thank you for keeping our appointment. We are in no way done with this conversation."
Sir Niiro huffed and pocketed his soiled gloves. Raoul hadn't even bothered to observe the civility of seeing him out, too distracted about his wretch; unconscionable how both men, mongrel and Elite were now more concerned with the small monitor being held in Raoul's gloved hand.
"He should have reached the Club by now, Riki. I do not understand."
Dark eyes became fretful as they looked up into worried sea green. "Me either and I can't raise Iason. Think they're together?"
Raoul gritted his teeth. "Possibly. I can only hope your conjecture proves right. He mentioned no such assignation before he left this morning."
~~~TTTB~~~