Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM
"No."
Silence again descended.
No? No one told him 'no'!
Well, Witch did, on occasion. Chibi-Janaelle did so quite often too, but that was the brat's prerogative. But other than that... Certainly no human trainer.
"What do you mean, 'No'? I didn't even say anything yet." That was another good reason for the incredulous silence. How did she even know the inner workings of a Warlord prince's mind? Was she saying no to more bacon, not that he would offer any of his breakfast. Daemon was a distinct carnivore and would sooner bite off fingers before giving up bacon made right.
Aela just raised an eyebrow almost in conjunction with his incredulous thoughts. Could a human have psychic powers like the Blood?
"I refuse to put you in a Bishieball. Under any circumstances."
Daemon in turn raised his own brows. Not only was he being told 'no' for the first time in his life, but he was being rejected without even offering himself? That too was a first. What was her reasoning for this?
"You do realize that it is a significant rarity to be able to boast of having a Warlord Prince captured, let alone willingly correct?"
An unreadable look was shot in his direction along with a simple, "No means no."
"Janaelle will not remain in the power of someone who cannot protect her. She will not be under sway of a trainer!"
The object of the conversation was currently attempting to burrow under raven locks.
Dark eyes looked down at the warm bundle in her arms and while tightening their grip, verbally concurred with the blond Sadist. "I understand. Thus, we are at an impasse. I absolutely will not have you bound."
Janaelle piped up near her ear, causing a momentary flinch, but no sound.
"And we can't let Aela free me or else she is booted out! I refuse to let that happen Daemie!"
Said 'Daemie' scowled at the nickname, but again turned his thoughts inward. Plan B...
He sounded his thoughts out, "Well, if I accompanied you until you received an alternate capture..."
At this, Janaelle wilted as she realized that there was actually a way out of the trap she thought was foolproof. She still had a way to go before she could plan like Witch.
Aela was of two minds about the solution. Granted, it allowed her to stand by her scruples, but neither was she entirely ready to be rid of the vivacious and friendly chibi. But, as honor stood, neither could she deny 'Plan B'.
Agreement was nodded.
Daemon abruptly stood up, sending his chair skidding back a few inches. An imperious hand was thrust out across the table and hovered, waiting.
"You want to shake on it? Like that will make it any more official?"
He shook his head exasperatedly. "No, give me a Bishieball and I will get you a replacement. Then Janaelle and I can be off and out of danger."
Aela scoffed in disbelief for a moment before realizing his expression of intent did not change. She also remembered that he didn't really joke unless with Janaelle. At least, that was the impression the books gave. And she didn't want his other type of humor being used on her.
"You'll just go out and arbitrarily catch a Bishie and be done with it?!"
He just gave a grunt followed closely by a typical male look that said, 'you're wasting time'.
"Whoa whoa whoa. First off, there's probably no unattached bishies in the town. I bet they'll typically stay away from trainer inhabited places. After all, you wouldn't normally be caught here on your own, right? Hmm, pun not intended."
That caused a minor eye roll and the hand dropping, but he still remained standing.
"It is better to get this finished and then we can go our separate ways. I cannot leave you two here in case an unscrupulous trainer wishes to take the chibi."
"At least finish your bacon, and we'll discuss this. I also want to talk about this a bit before we go haring off. With what I've been told, this place can get rough if not prepared," and she hurried her statement seeing the male get a snarly expression with the implication that he couldn't protect them, "and I don't want the new bishie and I to be completely incompatible."
Oh.
That made more sense than her disbelieving that he couldn't do the job.
Daemon hooked his toes around the chair leg and pulled it back. It wouldn't do to leave the bacon after all... Perfectly cooked bacon at that.
Janaelle peeked at her guardian with those dark blue eyes that shone with a hint of relief and postponed worry. She still got to stay with Aela a bit longer, but now that meanie would be joining them. Hmm, what if the propinquity of the situation caused Daemon to soften a bit toward the trainer and he decided to stay with them?
"If it has to happen this way, then I want some say in the new bishie, Aela."
Surprise caused the human to look at Janaelle. Suspiciously, she asked, "What do you mean?" Janaelle noted with some satisfaction that Witch's tattoo morphed into a spiky question mark. Janaelle was amused to think of the transmuting ink as the human's mood barometer.
"I just mean that I think my successor should be a girl. Not a chibi, 'cause no one can really replace me, but definitely a girl."
In thought, Aela nodded agreement. "That would be nice." What was unsaid was how much easier it would be if she had a bishojo companion. An actual bishonen would eventually engender id to create a conniption fit after a while.
Aela continued her thoughts. "Someone who can fight would be helpful too. That's part of what I wanted to stipulate Daemon."
The Sadist grunted understanding, but inwardly he was smirking. If those were the only two conditions, then he'd just find the first bishojo who looked marginally like she could fight and ball her. Then he and his charge can ride the webs home. He didn't anticipate much of a fight. After all, he was a Black-jewelled Warlord Prince. How hard could it be?
Daemon settled down to demolishing the pancakes too, the entire stack, including Aela's and liberally doused them with the syrup. Warlord Prince's liked their pancakes along with bacon.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Somehow, it always came back to the voices.
If it wasn't the external voices of the scientists, doctors and audio lab equipment, it was the creepy whispering. The whispering he could swear was just over his shoulder, in his ear, in his dreams. One would think the whispers would be of sweet nothings, but oh no, not him. Instead, he got the creepy whisperings.
Power to rule. Beautiful boy, sublime warrior, killing perfection. Birthright for the taking. Necessity to conquer.
It hadn't always been like this. The whispers had seemed to creep up slowly over the years. When he first recognized them as something more than incoherent murmurs, he just thought it was the sleep deprivation the scientists had made him go through.
But after the experiments moved on to other things, the whispers stayed. And got minutely louder. More clear. And took a feminine yet psychotic tint.
The scientists were told nothing. They were all alike, greasy and hunched over and entirely too absorbed in the pursuit of science to take the time to counsel some minor fallacy that was 'obviously' beneath the specimen.
The doctors were somewhat similar, still the same faces, but still told nothing, because at the slightest inkling of weakness on his part, and they would swarm. Verbally poke and prod at any crack in his mental armor, just to see what would happen, regardless that he was the only specimen available at the time.
He had learned long ago, that while one of these doctors or scientists probably was his biological father, the chance to create a sibling was so far fetched due to the adverse reaction any female of any bishie species would have. It only made him wonder all the more how he was created...? Test tube perhaps?
It was when the whispers were more like a single voice that could be heard from the next room over that he began to panic. That, and for the first time he heard the voice call him 'son'.
The day he heard that was the day he broke out of the medical/research facility.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Aela lead her small entourage back to the shop with a small sigh. Murphy would have to dictate that after breakfast the streets would be fairly bustling. While she was goggling at the sheer variety of bishies out there, she too got her share of wolf whistles. Most of it was the trainers, who might recognize a full san-stage Warlord Prince. Some would shoot envious and incredulous glances at a chibi, and a Janaelle at that!
What really gave her the headache though, was the rare Bishonen what whistled at her. Granted, it was an occasional Miroku or other lecherous type, and was always followed by a sound SMACK from either the bishie's trainer or companion bishojo.
Despite Daemon's insistence, Aela had held out on immediately going on a bishie-hunt. Even Janaelle was giving her looks of admiration for standing firm, but a girls still got to have her priorities. NO MORE PJ's!
So it was back to the shop. Ethel smiled in recognition, and then almost fainted when she saw who followed the frugal newbie. A salacious smile and wink followed Aela as she made her way back to the clothing aisles.
Aela normally followed a habit of practicality, but found it within herself to be even more so when she had the glower of the Sadist burning her back with every pause to consider color, fabric or even fit. Heaven forbid asking him for the time to try on an outfit. Instead, she resigned herself to several one-size-fits-all cotton T-shirts of assorted colors (no pink or Barney purple, thank-you-very-much) and a few capri's in Khaki, jeans, and some canvas material that she knew was her size. She'll figure out the fit later.
Janaelle had made herself useful by vanishing the selected clothing for now. Neither girl had the slightest intention of asking Daemon to hold the bags. Burnt scraps were not on the agenda.
Next was socks and shoes. Running shoes, a sturdy pair of flip-flops, and hiking boots. No more, no less.
The last necessity had both females glaring at the confused male when he tried to single-mindedly follow them into the next section. When he followed their pointed gaze to the shelves next to his elbow, they were graced with the smallest flush over dusky gold cheekbones. The very male Warlord Prince hightailed it out of the lingerie department.
The dedicated sales assistant for the section gave her own throaty chuckle before turning to the trainer and chibi.
"You don't know how many times the bishonen do that. Depending on the species, some of them do it 'accidentally-on-purpose'. Now what can I do for you ladies?"
While Janaelle looked wistfully between the racks of bras in a variety of lacy to racy styles back toward her own 'assets', Aela took charge.
"Newbie status. This is my first outfitting trip. I think like most I'm going to be doing a lot of travelling. No preference on color, but no pink or purple."
The saleslady, who introduced herself in that whiskey voice as Jasmine, looked intrigued. "Newbie? What's your secret?"
At Aela's questioning look, she continued. "That's got to be the third Daemon I've ever seen, and I've been here for almost a decade. You just don't see them outside of the Dark Jewels Territory. And he seemed pretty intent on following you even into here! That speaks of a protective Blood male to even ignore his surroundings." At the end of the mini-rant, Jasmine looked at Aela expectantly.
Janaelle giggled, drawing her attention before voicing her opinion. "Daemie can get really stubborn. Its an inherent - vice? trait?" She trailed off, not sure of the word she wanted to use, but her trainer smiled getting the gist.
"Yes, he can be a bit stubborn, can't he?" And then to Jasmine, "I really have no idea. I made friends, and apparently he came along with he package."
Janaelle just grinned exuberantly and wrapped an arm around her trainer, wanting the close contact with her friend.
Jasmine eyed the two with an amused air. "Alright, keep your secrets. If you bottled whatever it is, you'd make a fortune! But still, travel you say? Bah, after a few years, you'll want to settle down and get a perfectly good job. Sales is not so bad, after all, and you still get a variety of bishies blowing through town with their trainers. Lets see, you look like a size-..."
It turned out that the skivvies department took as much time as breakfast and the time to select outerwear combined. Daemon certainly had enough time to get over his small fever, as it could never have been a blush. There was nothing to be embarassed over. It was an honest mistake, and he was just trying to get the annoying trainer to hurry up.
When his charges finally exited that horrible horrible department, he chivvied them over to the counter and had to endure one more human proverbially drooling before getting with the program.
Ethel couldn't keep the grin off her face and trying to slip innuendo into every word she could slip in edgewise. What a haul!
Aela had the receipt stamped with minimal fuss after pestering Daemon to shake hands with Ethel, and the trio exited the shop leaving her swearing never to wash said appendage.
All three shuddered upon exit after hearing that declaration.
Janaelle laughed at the oddity of all three having the same reaction. Aela quirked a smile, and Daemon looked toward the town limits trying to suppress his snort of amusement that the human would have the good sense to behave in a like manner.
"Alright then. I'll get changed and then we can go bishojo hunting. All good?"
"Acceptable."
"Aww, do we have to? Daemon this could be fun! I've never'"
"No, kitten, your mother would have my hide, let alone the spanking you'll get from Witch if you continue misbehaving."
"Oh pooh," she pouted.
When she turned to Aela for assistance, Janaelle was startled to realize the girl had snuck away. One could almost see the invisible ?! over her head.
Daemon too paused at the thought of one who could move under his finely honed radar. Perhaps he had just adjusted to her presence or movements, classifying them as harmless to himself and his charge. After all, she appeared more than willing to release Janaelle after a suitable alternative had been proposed. It wasn't very many people who he reclassified his mental image for, let alone trainers.
It was barely a minute later when Aela exited out of a nearby restaurant in the brown canvas capris, green T-shirt and running shoes. An overall wholesome look. As she neared, she was tying back her riot of curls and huffed as one or two inevitably sprang out to frame her face.
"Alright, lets go."
After leaving the city limits, Janaelle insisted on walking first closely with the trainer, then slipped her hand into the trainer's. After about fifteen minutes, she then skipped up, dragging Aela closer to Daemon who absently held out his hand to his charge while using his senses and the Black to scan the surroundings for life sources that might support a fighter type.
Aela didn't mention anything because she recognized a look of concentration when she saw one. That, and she didn't want to get her head bitten off either.
Janaelle just liked the thought of walking hand in hand with her two favorite people, never-mind that one of them was her babysitter who liked making fun of her.
It was about an hour later that Daemon mentioned he found a possible candidate. Apparently, there was someone with quite the fighter's spirit somewhat northwest of their current location. They would have to go cross country a bit to get there, and Daemon was pretty sure there was a cliff in that direction overlooking another trainer town.
Aela tugged her hand out of Janaelle's and pulled her backpack/tent around and dug out the map. After guesstimating their current location based on walking speed and the road out of town, she pinpointed the general direction Daemon had mentioned and confirmed that there was indeed a cliff and that it overlooked a whimsical town called Why?.
Daemon snatched the map out of her hands upon believing she was having him on. But disbelief or not, smack dab where the dainty fingernail pointed was a town called Why?
Even more, after shooing away Aela's help, Daemon found another town further down the road called Why Not? and another about two days distant from that one called Because. Shaking his head, Daemon thrust the map back. If he kept looking, he would have noticed that the cliffs were named Insanity, and that they bordered Guilder and Florin Territory.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
It had been a year now. For the most part, he was glad. No more experiments, no more voices. Instead, the psychotic bitch had quieted with the distance he put between himself and his birth Territory.
Granted, it was back to whispers, but it was certainly better than the persuasive poisoned honey voice dripping in his ear, encouraging aggressive and rage inducing thoughts. But the whispers were still capitalizing on the good will that was generated from his actions taken since the voice started. After all, shouldn't he be beholden to the one who got him away from the constant pain and scrutiny?
Oh wait, that was the whispers again. But still, even he felt a niggling warmth as he overlooked the land splayed out before him. It was so calm, so bountiful. Almost as if it were ripe for the taking...
Sometimes, he worried. The whispers were quieter, but they seemed more insidious. After all this time, it sounded like his subconscious more than he liked. He really didn't want to sow destruction and violence... Did he?
He took a step closer to the edge. Would a fall even scratch him? While the whispers didn't think so, they also didn't like these thoughts of attempting to get away, of escaping. It was almost like they didn't care about his well-being...
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
"There," he whispered. Daemon finally sighted his quarry. It had taken awhile to impress stealth upon Janaelle, and surprisingly little emphasis to get the trainer to follow his lead, but the trio had crept up to the summit of a hill about a hundred yard away from the fighter standing near the cliffs.
Daemon smirked to himself in success. The quarry had overly long hair and what looked like a sword strapped to her back. Plus, she had her back turned and was not aware of their scrutiny. Too easy.
He scuttled back down the hill toward his charge and trainer. He held his hand out again imperiously and snapped his fingers for the bishieball.
Janaelle almost let out a squawk of indignation on Aela's behalf for the overbearing action, but was silenced by a dual look from the adults.
Aela reached toward the middle of her back and unhooked a miniaturized red and white orb, but before depositing it in his tapered fingers, she whispered, "I want to see first."
Daemon almost rolled his eyes but nodded curtly before gesturing in mock chivalry for her to go first. It was only with reluctant admiration that she made the scuttle look almost graceful and with equal silence as he followed right on her heels. Janaelle had to be content to sit in the shade at the bottom of the hill. There was no one about that his senses could tell, and she did not have the knack to hide her life force yet.
At the summit again, Daemon found Aela peering over intently. He waited a moment for any protest as to his choice of quarry and after bare moments, he took her silence as acquiescence. Daemon lithely fingered the obscene captureing device and hauled back, pulling the slightest on his red jewel for power and a small spell for accuracy.
It was at that moment that things went a little chaotic.
The figure on the cliff turned just the slightest toward them and a breeze roared upward sending the waterfalls of that silver hair billowing. Aela's jaw dropped in silence, finally putting a name to the form that had niggled in the recesses of her mind and she lunged at Daemon. Her movement caught him off-guard and the slight weight as she crashed against his chest and bicep turned what would have been a heroic pitch to bean the quarry into a lob that started rolling down the hill.
The duo on the summit watched the progress of the red and white blur as it reached the bottom and unerringly rolled to the booted foot of the warrior. That was a Daemon grade accuracy spell for you. It slowed as it approached and settled to a stop with the barest of taps to the black leather boots.
Daemon cursed when the tap did not ignite the orb into capture mode.
Aela released her pent up breath when she did not get a psychotic bishie for her first Bishonen. Her relief did not last long when he turned to look at the ball and reached down.
"NO! Don't touch it!"
Daemon jerked, not expecting the power of those lungs as they sounded from the close proximity of the trainer still latched onto his arm.
Daemon and Aela both could swear they saw incredulous and rebellious glowing cat green eyes look at them before pale tapered fingers plucked the bishieball from beside his boot.
And accidentally depressed the trigger.