Early morning rays leak into the clearing, the chirping and cawing of the birds fill my ears, the branches behind me thwipping back into place as I move towards the makeshift encampment. The scent of the forest is always welcoming, I don't exactly have time to dawdle though, I imagine that Valerie's around in her tend, right? I close in on the tents, eyes set on the more familiar one out of the bunch, disrupting clattering from a smaller tent pulling my attention away. A head pokes out of the tent, familiar blonde hair looking around before finally settling on me, a dopey but friendly smile on his face. Didn't think the giant would be up so early.
"Hey boss! You here for boss lady?" Claude asks as he brings himself into full few, body shining ever so slightly, lingering residue of what I assume to be water still clinging to his skin. I'm just thankful he has pants on, the shirt I can at least work past.
"Mhm, I made a promise to her that I intend to keep after all, is she available at the moment?" I respond in kind, the weight of the bag on my shoulders feel ever so heavier as my mind stews. I'm really gonna do this huh? Despite what I've told others and myself, it still feels strange, it feels wrong, but I've made my choice.
"Boss lady was up super late last night, so shes probly asleep still, she dun like being woken up in the morning." He says awkwardly, his feet shuffling as his eyes darts to the larger tent. So she's in there, huh? Probably hungover from last night, if the last moments that I saw her would be any indication. Lady loves her alcohol.
"Sadly I need her for Mabels contract, so I kind of need her awake." I trail off myself, motioning with a hand as I raise an eyebrow to the man. He blinks, I can imagine the cogs in his head turning, but he seems to get it, nodding quickly afterwards.
"Okay! I'll wake her up in a bit, boss lady likes her sleep after a loud night. Who's Mabel?" He answers, responding with a question of his own. Did he not know her name? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, she'd be scared of a giant like Claude, whether or not he's friendly in the end.
"The uh, small fox kid from before? Do you remember her?"
"Oh! The small fox girl. I remember her! Very quiet, very nice though."
"Did you spend much time with her?" I gently prod at the man, getting some insight on how she was treated here might… I dunno, put to rest some worries I have for the girl I guess? I'm not sure, but there's nothing wrong with some questions right?
"Nup, she didn talk much either, but she was cute! Is she okay?" He suddenly asks, worry filling his normally dulled eyes. My lips twitch upwards, but I subdue it swiftly, probably should've expected him to worry about her, I can't imagine a bad bone in his body. Friendly giant indeed.
"Aye, I've made sure she's okay, it warms my heart to see that you've worried for her though, you've my thanks Claude. Was she with you long?" He hums to himself, scratching at his chin with a hand. I give him time to think, stuffing my hands in my pockets, lightly fingering with the stone as I wait. Hey brain, do you think Claude could use magic? Something about imagining the hulking man fling spells despite being looking like he could crush bones on accident is hilarious, in a strange way
Claude? A man like him would likely lack the mental capacity for it, let alone the magical capacity , though I do admit it would be humorous to see it happen. Why are you asking yourself? I only know as much as you do, dumbass.
"She was with us for a lil bit, lady boss was very mad when the templars showed. It's been, uuuuhhhh, a week? I think? A weeks seven days, right?" He finally answers, scratching at the back of his head. A week? That's not nearly as long as I thought she'd be stuck here, hm...Does that mean it's been a week since I've turned Ashford in? No, there's always the chance that happened a while ago, and they've attempted to sell Mabel to him a week ago. Still, the thought of all that being so fresh to people burrows into my mind, it fills me with worry, what I'm worried about is beyond me. Right, fuck, I'm talking to someone.
"Ah, it's no worry Claude, thanks for answering. She had a warm bed to sleep in last night, and she'll soon have a nice bit of meat for breakfast, whenever I get the time anyways. How are you though, Claude?" I ask the man again, he seems genuinely surprised, taken aback by the question. Right, if he worked for me willingly or not, I probably didn't quite speak with him very much.
"Me? I'm okay boss man, i dunno what else to say." He replies bashfully, the apology makes my heart dip though. Asshole Zeke was an asshole, right.
"I assume that I didn't ask that too much then?"
"Nuh, boss was kinda cold. No offense boss." He quickly tacks on the last bit there hastily, his face one of embarrassment, his head tilting while I snicker.
"Heh, none taken claude. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you, is there a way for me to help you by any chance?" I offer him, trying to at least sound sincere. If there's anything I can do...
"Uh, im okay boss, but thank you!" He finally says after a few moments, a bright grin on his face. He was surprised, either that or he just had to process the question itself, both equally possible.
"If you say so. What are your plans for today Claude, if I may ask?" I ask again, trying to strike up conversation, part to pass time and part to learn more about the man. Never seen a man who could pass as a brigand but also come off as a man who'd never hurt a fly, at least in any of the memories that I have left in my skull.
"Uhh, well, lady boss might need some help making moneys? I'm not good with planning stuff, so that's her job, but I help her with what she needs!"
"Ah, right, she did lose her ship didn't she? Did she ever bring up how much money she needs?" A ship and a crew could be useful, even if I'm not exactly the captain.
"I dunno, if she did, then she didn't say it to me. But thats okay." Something about the way he says that fills me with.. Something, I'm not sure what exactly, a mix of sympathy and respect in my chest as I look up to the man. He keeps that smile on his face despite the fact that he probably knows his, well, mental ineptitude, the will to do that is admirable
If only we could do the same for ourselves.
I hum to myself and look to the sky, the morning sun barely gleaming from above the edges of the canopy. I still have time, but the creep of it tugs at my heart.
"Sorry to cut this short, but I really do need to be elsewhere, whether or not Valerie appreciates it. Do you want me to wake her up instead? I'll take the fall for you." I cut into the conversation, cutting to the chase hastily. Claude hums to himself, scratching at the back of his head in thought, slowly shaking his head.
"Naw, it's okay boss, I can do it. I think it'll be okay anyway, follow me." I give the man a nod and follow him at arms length, the towering man taking point in approaching Valeries tent, pushing the flap away tentatively
"Lady boss? Other boss's here for ya." We collectively wince as a clattering noise rings from the tent.
"Fucking what? He's here right now? Fucking, ich, tell him come on in then." Despite the groggy aggressive tone of her voice, the lady very likely caught off guard, Claude turns around and gives me a wide grin and a thumbs up.
"There ya go! I wanna do some other stuff, good luck boss." He clasps a hand on my shoulder and gives me a friendly squeeze, of which feels tighter any other grip I've been encased in, it's almost painful. I give him a tentative warm smile of my own, patting him on the shoulder as I pass into the room.
The rooms mostly the same as yesterday, an awkward feeling creeping in my chest as I pass Mabels, well, ex crate. They didn't clean that up, that's awkward indeed. I look up to Valerie, the lady groaning as she rubs a hand over her face and the other through her greasy mess of a hair, lips smacking together as she blinks rapidly. The empty bottles that litter atop the desk and the sides of it is telling enough.
"Feeling hungover, Valerie? Are you going to be alright?" I ask almost mockingly, my lips twitching upwards as she groans once more, a hand gripping her head.
"Shaddap, I'll be fine, just stop talking so loud. I didn't think you'd actually show up."
"I'm almost insulted, I keep to my promises, Miss Valerie."
"Sure you do, just sign the shit and get out." She says exasperatedly, groaning once more as she rummages through her desk, grumbling under her breath. I seat myself and lean on the desk, waiting for her to finish. She continues on for a few moments longer, tearing out a piece of paper and throwing it onto a table, as well as an ink pot and quill.
"There you go fucker, do you have my money?" She basically demands bluntly, a deep frown on her face while she holds a cloth to her head, still grumbling angrily.
"Naturally." I respond in kind, rummaging through my bag and finding my gold pouch, sticking my hand in it and picking at the needed coins, holding them out in a hand to her. She greedily yoinks the pair from my hands, examining them with a keen eye.
"..Huh, I'm shocked that they're actually real, more to the stash then." She says with a sigh, tossing the coins into a separate drawer from before. I read over the document with a keen eye of my own. Full ownership of the provided keidran whose name may be changed at the masters discretion, from the signed person to another, a bundle of information that I can't keep a proper track of. Reading something and understanding something are two different things after all. The original 'owner' of Mabel is an overly formal and flowery signature, one that I can't properly read, what a pain in the ass. I fiddle with the quill, twisting the thing in a hand.
"Are you gonna sign it or what? I'm not gonna give you back your money, so hurry it." Valerie urges with an aggravated tone, eyebrows furrowing as she stares at me. I hum to myself, fiddling with the feather some more as I frown.
"...I don't know how to write with this thing." I admit sheepishly, rubbing at the back of my neck with my spare hand. There's an equally awkward silence in the room, the only audible noise being the ambience of the clearing itself. The noise of nature is always nice.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" She asks with a deadpan tone, eyes unblinking. I bite back my tongue and feel my face burn with her undeterred glaring, I refuse to answer that question. She sighs and rubs her face, a long stretched guttural groaning coming from her chest.
"I fucking hate you. Fuck you for showing up so early too."
"My apologies, Miss Valerie, I do need to leave Wreathwood mid morning, so I regretfully had to come so soon."
"And that's oh so convenient, I can see through you, you bastard." Her grumbling is at least amusing enough to make me chuckle, despite the death stare she gives me. "Fine, pull your chair over here and I'll give you a run down"
I twist the parchment, inkwell and quill over to her, carrying the chair to her side, plant it next to her and shuffling a bit closer. She sighs to herself and rubs at her face again, half lidded tired eyes lazily looking over the items, picking up the quill in a hand.
"You know what a quill is at least, right?" She asks monotonously, a half smirk on her face as she twirls it around in a hand dexterously.
"Obviously, I remember that much at least." I reply in a deadpan tone, my nose wrinkling as she flicks at it with a spare finger, the lady chuckling as I rub at the sore spot with a hand. Rather rude, to be honest.
"Don't sass your teacher, Zeke. A quill isn't too hard to use, but you have to be light with it, unless you wanna snap the thing. First, dip the tip in the inkwell." She instructs, following her own instructions and dipping it into the miniature pot, the tip of the quill dripping a single drop back into the ink. It doesn't drip further, stained a deep black.
"Then, fuck I need a spare piece of paper for this shit, gimme a second." The lesson's abruptly halted as she rummages through another part of her desk, cursing under her breath, inevitably yanking out an old yellow stained piece of paper. "There we go, no ones gonna use this. Lightly press the tip against the paper, and then drag it across, it's really not that hard."
She shows a physical display of what to do, the tip of the quill bending slightly as she pushes it against the paper, but she flicks and flourishes the thing in a way that looks well practised, resting the tip against the rim of the pot as she shows off her signature, an italicized Valerie emblazoned onto the practise parchment.
"There, your turn now fuzzball." She demands shortly, planting the paper and shoving the rest of the equipment onto my side of the desk. I pinch my fingertips on the feather, dipping it into the inkwell as she showed before, letting it drip back into itself. There we go, that's the easy part, lets not break the thing trying to write.
My tongue sticks out of my mouth as I pull my full focus on the parchment, dragging the tip against the surface, lacking the flourish and dexterity, but I try my best to write something legible onto the thing. After a few seconds, I rest the feather against the rim and hold the piece of paper upwards, a bright grin on my face.
"So? How's it look?" I ask the lady cheerfully, trying to keep my voice at least a little low for her. She purses her lips together, lowly humming as she stares at the word, looking at me for a few seconds, then back to the paper.
"Writing isn't your strong point, stay away from it." She finally replies bluntly, leaning against the back of her chair. I give a faux pout as I twist the paper and look at it myself, a crude and shaky 'Z e k e' written onto it.
"It's not that bad! Sure, it's a little shaky, and the second E kind of blends into the K, but it's readable." I try to argue with her, looking back and forth with her and the paper before planting it down. She lets out a sigh, a long suffering sigh before burying her face into her hands.
"Just, sign the papers and fuck off please, don't ruin the paper either." She groans exasperatedly, not even having the heart to glare at me for chuckling at her. I shrug and bring the slave contract in front of me, dipping into the ink once more. I hesitate for a moment, looking up and down the thing, biting at my lip.
We've still reservations about owning another being, even if we've hyped us up to believe otherwise.
That's about right. I sigh to myself and softly dip the tip onto the signature line, the second I sign this is the second I own Mabel, loathe as I am to think of it. Is this the right move? I've sunk enough time into this that skimping out of it would just be a waste of time, but is that the right move? You know what? Fuck it.
I take in a deep breath, dragging the tip of the quill onto the paper for the first and final time, ink blots dripping onto the tips of the lettering, rigid and precise, at least as best as I can. I place the feather onto the inkwell once more as I finish off the word, pulling the parchment into the air.
"Huh, that isn't as bad as I feared, good job Zeke." Valerie actually compliments me for it, much to my surprise, her hand clasped on my shoulder with a squeeze. I give her a sober nod as my eyes bore into my signature.
Zeke, the basitin who owns Mabel.
"You've my thanks, Valerie. For trusting me, and helping me." I say to her with a dip of the head, rolling the paper and standing up, dragging the chair to its original spot.
"Hey, I liked the thought of a good payout of coins rather than the girl leeching off of us. Now scram fuzzball, I have things to do." She motions me out with a hand, kicking her feet onto the table. I bow lightly to her and roll the parchment up, gripping it lightly as I walk out of the tent.
"Hey boss! Is everything okay?" Claude pipes up as soon as I leave it, the man sitting crossed legged on the dirt, looking up to me with a wide smile.
"Everything's sorted, thank you for your time though Claude." I thank the man, following it up with a bow for him. He looks bashful, a soft smile on his face as he rubs at his arm.
"Aw, it's okay boss! Do you need anything else?" He asks jovially, genuinely. I hum and close my eyes, shaking my head soon after.
"No, I'd feel bad for asking more of you regardless. Have a good day, that goes for the both of you." I wave my goodbyes as I make way to move out of the clearing, Claude's own goodbye faintly falls on my ears, pressed against the back of my neck as I look down to the roll of paper. I hold a fierce glare at the thing, wishing I could bore a hole into it.
Zeke, the shitty basitin that owns Mabel. I'll do my best for her, I promise you that much Ashford.
...
I wrap my hands against the door and await for an answer, the knocking reverberating throughout the silence of the hall, fiddling with my fingers as I step from foot to foot. The Templars guarding the door to the tower were thankfully, although monotonously, understanding of my wishes to see the captain. It makes me wonder, did he say something about me to them? It's more likely that they've seen me with him around a fair bit lately, but it's still curious.
"Come in." His flat voice rings out from behind the wood, an almost annoyed invitation to enter the room. I push the door open, wincing as it creaks uncomfortably loud as I push myself into the room. Lucas raises an eyebrow, his remaining eye boreing into me as I shut the door behind me, stuffing my hands into my pockets to hide the fiddling. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous, but here I am.
"Nice to see you again captain." I say half sheepishly as I take a seat in front of him, leaning into the back of the chair with a shuddering sigh. At least the comfort of the chair however stiff it may be is comforting enough.
"Zeke, I recall saying that I didn't want to see you again so soon." He says bluntly as his eye looks back down onto a document, quill feverishly twitching with his hand movements. I grin awkwardly and rub at the back of my neck
"I know, I'm sorry about this captain, there's just... something on my mind that I feel a need to talk about." I explain to the man. He continues his writing, a focused look in his eye before sighing, rubbing at his face with a spare hand and shoving the paper aside, along with the quill.
"Well, spit it out then." Another mute and emotionless reply, eye still gazing into my own.
"Well, what's gonna happen to Alex?" His eyebrow raises, a curious look amidst his otherwise expressionless face.
"Out of all the things you could've asked of, Alex himself was not a question I foresaw. He broke his vow as a Templar to keep the peace and the law, he'll be thrown into the dungeon for a short while, along with the other one." He explains plainly and informatively. I hum to myself, tapping my fingers against myself.
"Is his punishment severe?" I tentatively ask, I recall asking Lucas if he could lighten the mans sentence in any way he can.
Still not sure why you'd bother, even if he manages to do it, looking out for someone who tried to kill you is something you seem to flip flop on, from Zen to the random keidran who led to you becoming a quiver for an arrow. Just seems a little inconsistent for us is all.
Shhh, he's opening his mouth.
"It's on the lighter side, I pulled enough strings to lessen his sentence. If you've come to ask me for another favour on his behalf then you can get out now, not even the masks could force me to deal with the shitshow that'd happen because of it." His voice is firm and gruff, eyebrow furrowed as his stare turns into a full throttled glare. I hold up my hands defensively, waving them around.
"No no, It's nothing like that! I was just wondering… are prisoners allowed visitors?"
"Explain yourself."
"Whatever reason he, well, the both of you have to loathe me is likely well deserved. I just wish to visit him at least once, to see if we can have a chat of some kind. Just the two of us."
"Do you truly think that you could convince the man to lighten his loathing of you in some way, Zeke?"
"Truthfully? No, not at all, a few words can't fix everything. I want to have the piece of mind to know that I've tried at the very least. Even if he can't be convinced like you can, an attempt for a change is better than none at all." Silence fills the room as Lucas cups his head atop his hands, a deep rumbling in his chest as he hums. He closes his eye shut for a few moments, as if in deep thought. Which he may as well be. He remains silent for a while longer, before letting out a long suffering sigh, opening his eye with an almost low spirited stare.
"You're a strange man, Zeke, and that's putting it bluntly. I shall allow it, just this once, wait outside for me to finish this up and I'll show you his jail cell myself." He finally says, motioning with a hand against me. I subdue the small elated smile that nearly appears on my face and nod, standing up and shuffling my chair back to its original place. My ears twitch as I hear him continue his scrawling, exiting the room without hesitation and letting out a shuddering sigh, resting my back against the thick wooden door, rubbing at my face with my hands.
Fantastic, lets go see the dude that tried to kill us, I'm sure it'll go brilliantly.
…
The door slides open, wincing as my ears flatten against my neck, the screeching of metal on metal pounding against my ears.
"You have ten minutes in there, if I decide to drag you out for whatever reason, you will comply. Do you understand?" The captain dictates, an unyielding look in his eye. I nod quickly and repeatedly, forcing myself into the room. He doesn't shut the door behind me thankfully, my ears still feel painful from the initial screeching.
The only source of light in the room is the dim rays of the sun pouring through the small window that's a decently high height in the room, bars lodged in between itself. As if a man could drag themselves that high, and the chains and bars that circumvent freedom wouldn't help the case. The room is bare, the only furniture present, if it could be called that anyways, is a wooden board laid sideways, lodged into the wall and hung by chains. He doesn't look up as my claws clack against the stony floor, shoulders slumped over with his wrists bound by chains, head shaved in something akin to a buzzcut as he stares into the dirty floor. I stop in front of him, staring at the seemingly despondent rag clad figure.
This is the guy that nearly killed us, huh? He's not much without his equipment, but be wary.
I'm sure it'll be fine, but I'll keep it in mind.
"So, uh, how've you been? It doesn't really look comfortable here." I say aloud, awkwardly breaking the ice, coughing as stiff as the delivery of the sentence. He doesn't respond, chest rising and falling with his breathing, I squat and look underneath his face, blank eyes continuing to stare into the floor.
Zeke, this is pointless, lets get out of here dammit.
No, not just yet. I shake my head and take in a deep breath, here we fucking go.
"I'll cut to the chase, I don't know why you hate me, but I don't hate you for hating me, if that makes sense anyways. I don't think it does but that's besides the point I wanna make. I want to change, whatever I've done to hurt you and anyone else is something that I want to correct dammit. I don't want to beg for forgiveness, I know I probably can't change your mind, I just want you to know that from the bottom of my heart that I'm so fucking sorry for whatever I've done. I'm gonna work on being a better person, and that's a promise I'll keep until my dying breath." I solemnly swear to the man as I finally finish myself, standing upright at the very end. Silence quickly reigns the room, sweat beading on my head as I look down to Alex's still form. I, uh, expected something from him, anger is at least an emotion of some kind, I didn't expect happiness or anything positive, but something is better than his… inexpressive deadness.
I bite my tone and sigh, rubbing a hand through my hair. Fuck, this was kind of a waste of time wasn't it? It totally was, god dammit. What'd get a rise outta the man anyhow? I think I know something.
Don't you fucking dare sugge-
"Hey, wanna slug me in the face? Free of cost, I'll keep my lip zipped about it to Lucas, and you can get some anger out. Hows that sound?" I give the man a desperate offer, I wanna get something out of the man at least. That does get a reaction from him, the twitch of his shoulders, followed by the raising of his head. I can't tell if he's staring at me or through me, but it's better than the lethargic lack of motion from before, right?
It's not better, you fucking mess of a man. Are you a fucking masochist or something? Why would you offer that?
Hey, it was a last ditch offer to get a rise outta him, I say it's working! If he's a man that's aggressive and volatile normally, then a nice hit to get the pressure out would do some good, right? There's a low rumbling noise from the man, catching me off guard for a moment. The rumbling sounds grows louder and louder, a wild looking glint in his eyes forming as he continues to stare, chuckling aloud through clenched teeth.
"You're a disgusting, vile stain, a blight upon Mekkan." He finally speaks up, his voice croaky from disuse, coarse like rocks upon my ears.
"I didn't hear a 'no' from that, but I didn't hear a yes either. I feel like you called me a variation of that before, I didn't realise you ran out of insults so quickly." I fire back mockingly with an equally mocking grin, crossing my arms as I stare down at the man. He growls and clenches his fists together, a fierce fire in his eyes, one of contempt.
You're actually mental, stop riling up the god prisoner and lets get the fuck out of here.
"I'll take it. Come closer." He replies simply, disdain filling his voice as he continues his glare. My smug grin softens and turns into a soft smile as I approach him, the man unsteadily rising to his feet. His hands shake as his clenching somehow intensifies, and without hesitation takes a step forward and swinging a fist of his into my face. There's a burst of pain as his fist connects with my cheek, a light grunt forcing its way out of my throat as I stumble backwards, my tongue rubbing over my teeth quickly. No taste of copper, no loose feeling teeth either. A dull pain throbs from my cheek as I rub over it with a hand, no long lasting pain, it might bruise though. I give a shake of my head as I look over to the man, an elated wide grin on his face as he clenches and unclenches his hand, sitting back down with his slouching.
"Do you feel a bit better, Alex?" I ask the man as I continue to massage at my cheek. The fire in his eyes are dimmer than before, but they still burn bright enough.
"I dunno, let me kick your ass and I might have a better answer." He retorts with an ever increasing grin, fingertips twitching as he looks up to me. I roll my eyes and let my arm hang limply by my side, the pain in my cheek seems mostly gone.
"That's the second and last free hit you'll get on me. When you get out of here, I'll give the time out of my day to kick your ass again, swords drawn. I might even go a bit easier on you if you really need it." I give him another offer, a mocking and teasing tone in my voice, one that he scoffs at.
"When? You mean if, bastard. Captains aint very happy bout it all." He says dejectedly, slumping back against the stone wall. That looks far from comfortable.
"No, that's a 'when'. Do we have a deal?"
"I want to wring my hands around your neck and mangle your throat, so of course it's a deal. I still hate you, and I'll never not hate you."
"Time's almost up, finish your shit and get out." Lucas's voice rings out from behind me, a jolt of surprise running through my body. Shit, I forgot we had a time limit, how long have we been in here anyways?
"I think that's it then, I wont be in town for a while, and I cant imagine youd want me to visit you. Good luck Alex, with whatever you do. I do hope you find peace with yourself." I say to him as I turn around, a tired wave washing over my body. Shit, it's only morning too, walking's gonna be a pain in the ass.
"Hey." Alex calls out to me, surprisingly. I hum to myself and twist my head, looking back at the smoldering wrathful man.
"Yeah? What's up?" He looks conflicted, an odd look on his face as he gazes over the room.
"..Do you hate keidrans, like most other Templars?" He asks. That, is not a question I expected him to ask, keidrans huh?
"I'm not exactly a Templar any more, can't follow a job if you don't remember it. And of course not, they're as alive as we are after all, I can't imagine hating them because they're not the same race." I answer the man, a surprised expression appears on his face. I guess he wasn't really expecting that answer.
"Zeke, hurry up and get out." Lucas calls out once more, interrupting the lingering ends of the conversation.
"Alright alright, I'm going. Good luck Alex." The door slides and screeches closed, a whine suppressed in my throat as I hold onto my ears. Fucking loud as shit doors, probably rusted and unkempt to all hell. Where's oil when you need it?
"Did you do what you need, Zeke?" Lucas asks me as he takes the lead, I follow close to his back, walking past the other equally unkempt and run down cells, at least they're empty.
"I'm not sure, but I hope it does something in the end." I answer, it's not a fantastic answer, but it's the only one I can give. I hear Lucas chuckle, my ears twitching at the noise.
"You're a strange one, Zeke. I was tempted to come in when you were punched, but you did ask for it."
"I'm well aware, and I'm glad you didn't. I'd like to imagine that I got more out of him in the end because of it."
"It's very likely, that much is true. He did always love a good brawl." The conversation ends soon after, his almost melancholic tone running over my ears as I tilt my head. Memories of the past, perhaps? The door to the outside squeaks open as sunlight fills the hall, wincing and covering my eyes as we step outside. Back into the salty smell of the port town, better than the stench of whatever was down there.
"Now Zeke, here's hoping that I don't have to deal with you again any time soon. I'll have your head if I do." He warns sternly, but there's an almost good natured joking tone mixed inbetween it. Regardless of what he means, I give him a stiff nod.
"Good, farewell Zeke." And with that, he marches toward the tower, likely to return to his office. Gotta love paperwork.
Gotta love being with someone who likes to throw himself into the metaphorical fire too, what sort of fucking thinking was that and why did it kind of work?
I chuckle and shrug, stuffing my hands in my pockets and making my way into town. A simple answer to that would be that, well, Alex was angry and headstrong, so he probably likes a good fight, when his head's in the right place anyways. A punch isn't quite the same, but its better than nothing. I hum to myself and look to the sky, hastening my pace.
Two more stops, then I'll pick up Mabel, then it's time to fuck off from here. The hard part's out of the way, nice and easy now.
Authors note: Apologies for any grammar mistakes and differences in tone when it comes to scenes and whatnot, I'm currently very ill and it's not exactly going very smoothly, I did want to get a chapter out though. I'll likely be better soon.