[Memory] And So We Meet Again... (Benton)

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Aziza
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Sun Aug 12, 2018 8:08 pm

Yaris 8, 2715
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He was so very proper, it made her giggle. She'd guessed that he'd have an issue with her being naked in public but it was still amusing to hear his shock to confirm her suspicions. If was also intriguing. The young woman had read in his palm that he wasn't one to settle on any partner and he hadn't seemed in the least bit embarrassed when she'd pointed that out so presumably he'd gotten around over the years. By rights, he shouldn't have been shy but the fact he was... well, it said interesting things about his character. She enjoyed the insights she'd gotten into his psyche today and she hoped that he'd allow her more of these little glimpses. She understood why he was cagey but... she was still hopeful that he'd open himself up further.

The Mugrobi heard him splashing away from her and took a peek, turning her head and allowing one eye to open in a squint. She watched his every action, noting his posture as he stripped off and amused as each layer fell away. His clothing was already wet so there was no harm in continuing to wear it in the sea although it would be heavy. However, given his prudishness about her own clothing, and his unwillingness to shed the layers in spite of the heat earlier, she'd expected him to keep them in spite of the drawbacks.

While she was trying to be subtle about the fact she was observing him, Aziza couldn't help but laugh as he bolted towards the water as if he was being chased. The witch tried to flatten her expression, make it neutral again as she turned her face back towards the sky, pretending that she hadn't noticed anything that had taken place on shore. She turned towards him as he approached as if she'd only just noticed him.

"Oh ye're back then, eh?" the black girl commented, her easy smile returning at the sight of him. She could have teased him about his bare torso but she didn't want to risk sending him racing back to shore simply because of a little fun at his expense.

His dive and splashing made her squeal in surprise and mirth, the young woman splashing him right back when he resurfaced. "Well, look at ye! Seems ye know what fun is after all!" she teased, winking in his direction before she settled back into floating on her back, mirroring his actions as his mood seemed to change, growing pensive and nostalgic.

The simple sharing of a childhood memory stunned her.

Here was a man who in many ways had done his best to shut himself off from her and she suspected the world at large as well. He was very business orientated, didn't seem to let loose - usually at least, today was an obvious exception - and hadn't even wanted to tell her his name for fear of the danger it would bring. Benton had told her nothing about himself, aside from a tiny admittance that his brother was dead, something she didn't think he would have revealed if she hadn't touched on it so closely. Stripping away clothes was one thing, figuratively taking down his walls but this little tidbit of information? This was something else.

The spoke actually stopped to think for a few moments rather than letting her tongue trip over itself asking questions: He was from Bastia? What was it like? How long was he there? Did he like it? Did he miss it? Instead, she considered the little nugget in her mind, quelling her curiosities as she considered how to approach this.

The drug dealer didn't like direct inquiry about himself. When she'd gotten close to the topic of his brother before, he had shut down so it was clear that he didn't want things to know. However, he had shared this of his own volition as memory rose to the surface. Perhaps that was the way to approach it by stimulating more memories. She couldn't ask directly though so the route was through her own memories.

"We've a few rivers in Mugroba. Ye all think that we've naught but desert but it ent true. There are boats that go up and down 'em, trading and the like. Ye can't manage without water. Think anyone'd live there if there was no water?" she questioned rhetorically, laughing softly. "Ne, ye need the water. If ye think the heat here is a lot, ye'd have a hard time in Mug. This time of year, spokes stay along the rivers, basic'ly live in 'em. We warn't spokes for years but we stayed near the water. Could trade that way, ye know. I spent a lot of time playing along that water, 'magining setting sail up it or just... getting carried away to somewhere else just so I could move. I tried to run away more'n once, ye know. Hopped on one of the boats heading upriver, thought I'd make it to Thul Ka at least. Know what happened? Found me 'bout a mile up the waters and dumped me ashore, had to walk back to my daoa and da who'd turned themselves inside out worrying 'bout me."

She trailed a hand through the water, letting her fingers cut the surface as she inched it closer to brush against Benton's arm. "Maybe I coulda swam it. I'm a benny swimmer, I think. Least I ent drowned yet though I've been in a few scrapes," the witch explained, tilting her head in his direction. "Ent been swimming since ye were a child, eh? All the maw gone by since that happened, well... wonder if there's still a river there or if it's dried up since you were a child," she teased, a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous smirk curving her lips. "Ent been more'n a blink o' the eye since I was a child. Not that ye'd tell," she added, reaching a hand up to touch the swell of her chest, the wet material clinging to the womanly shape.

She laughed heartily at the mere thought of how embarrassed that comment would make the man. His perception of things really did seem to be quite different in the daylight with witnesses so near at hand.

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Benton Borteillo
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: aka EON, Roswell Godfrey
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Sun Aug 19, 2018 3:26 pm

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Yaris 8, 2715....
Mugroba.

He may have travelled through it once. That was the thing about running away from something- you hardly remember where you were in the middle. He had spent months running from a few angry gang members before he finally eluded them in Old Rose. He had weaved in and out of Bastia, he knew, but he couldn't remember where. He doubted he had known where he was at the time, either. One day he'd like to travel, travel like a normal person would do in leisure. His occupation didn't offer many vacation days, however, but a trip on business could be expendable. He could get a few contacts, maybe see what drugs Mugroba had to offer, but, no, he didn't want to leave. Not while he was safe. There'd be a day where the ghost of that Olin Halpine would come knocking at his door, or perhaps Silas Hawke or his whipped into submission boy, Corwynn. Then Benton would leave. Now, however, he was too tired of running away. He wanted to be able to stay somewhere, make something of himself. Old Rose Harbor was the first place that allowed him to be more than a child, more than a dirty human, more than a coward. One day he'd be the king of these streets, if he lived long enough, that is. Even with Silas Hawke around, well, Silas was God. Benton could still be a king.

The witch told him of running away and her attempts to get up, move on, find a new life on the water. It was a quixotic thing to children, running away. He'd done it. He'd packed up Deitrick and everything they owned and the two of them had stolen into the night while the Bastian Orphanage for Boys had slept. They had went home, but not to see that damned man who had called himself their father. No, they snuck in, took what they could find of their mother's, and were officially runaways. Running away wasn't so fun after two years of it. They were homeless, tired, and unloved. Nobody had come looking for them, and no one except Benton had to carry the weight of the death of Deitrick. No, if Benton hadn't runaway, his brother would still be alive. At least Deitrick wasn't still running.

Benton let out a short laugh as she called him out on his age. "It's been a short while, I suppose, but once you're as ancient as me, you'll find childhood still seems like it was only yesterday." Truly, he didn't know what Bastia looked like now, 10 years since he had left, another 7 or so since he'd been a child dependent on others, dependent enough to have the time to swim in a river all day. In his experience, childhood had lasted a lifetime, whilst the years between then and now had barely existed. Now he was stuck in the slowness of time again as the little youth he still had dwindled.

He was struck uncomfortable by her statement of womanliness. Realizing the direction of her hand to her bosom, he turned his head back to the sky mirroring the water he floated on. He shook his head to shake away the reddening embarrassment. He didn't think he'd ever be prepared for her shamelessness. He steered the conversation back towards her childhood- it interested him. It interested him to see the doubts and regrets she had. She didn't seem like one who would wish for many changes in the past, more so one who would allow her past to stay just as it was. This, however, caught him.

"If you'd been a good enough swimmer to get away for good, where do you think you'd be now? Not floating in a river beside a drug dealer you're about to be working with, I'd assume. Think you'd still be alive? Think you'd be better off? Worse off?" he asked in a truly curious tone, feeding a few ideas to her as the white cumulus clouds floated like lazy bumblebees overhead.
In hell I'll be in good company.
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Aziza
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Sat Sep 22, 2018 11:02 am

Yaris 8, 2715
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It was odd, this mood he'd fostered. They'd been having fun, hadn't they? The alcohol certainly should have helped with that, buoying her mood up even more than normal but the mention of the past...

Of course, Aziza had her regrets. She regretted that she'd never been able to convince her parents to take up the spokes' lifestyle again, regretted that she hadn't been able to do anything to prevent her father's death and her mother's sickness. They were events that she'd been powerless to steer at the time, something she knew in hindsight, but she still had a feeling that she could have done more, had a greater influence. Her childhood memories were bittersweet to her in any case. She'd been largely happy, surrounded by Mugrobi wicks as she was, and she'd had both her parents, well and full of life. However, she also recalled how much she'd hated the stillness, the itch of wanderlust that she hadn't been able to scratch because she was tethered to one place by her parents. Sometimes, she wondered if Hulali had taken her desire to move and twisted it, granting her wish but bringing terrible, terrible consequences with it.

The young woman chewed her lip, eyes full of unshed tears as she tried to control herself. She didn't want to start blubbering again, not when she was so desperate to be happy today. She didn't want to lower the mood further by crying once more. Hence, the spoke plastered a bright smile on her face, probably too bright to be true, and tried to find a lighter tone.

"Oh when ye're ancient, ye feel yer youth is close, eh? Heard 'bout that. Think it's called going senile, ye get so old, ye end up almost at the beginning again, ye chen?" she teased, barking with laughter again, ignoring the tear that trickled out and slid slowly down her cheek.

The laugh from her lips was more genuine when she saw his embarrassment, the reference to her breasts making him squirm. He was a funny man, truly, bothered by silly things. Maybe this was what it was to be civilised - something that wicks in general, but especially spokes, were accused of not being; her kind were supposed to be wild and savage. Well, if being civilised meant being embarrassed about perfectly natural things, including your own body, then she'd sooner be a savage; it seemed a more carefree and enjoyable life.

"Ye're funny, Eon, ye really are. Dint think I've ever come across a man who got red 'bout talk of a woman's tits 'cept there one of 'is fami's and he wants to smack whoever said it," Aziza commented, turning her head towards him, trying to read more in his face. "Ye're an odd one... but ne in a bad way," she added.

His questions made her fall into a pensive silence, the young woman moving her limbs within the water to cause her to drift nearer to him as she considered her response, making a soft clucking noise with her tongue.

"I do ne chen. S'pose I mighta got to Thul Ka bu' more'n like I'd have fallen in wi' some spokes, travelled. Woulda had to get me own kint and maybe never come to Anaxas. Ne, probably never come to Anaxas tha' way. I woulda known where me da and daoa were but if I han't been there... maybe they'd both be gone. Their hearts would be broke wi' me gone, ne warning, jus' gone one day."

Her voice grew quiet as she spoke, the tears she'd hoped wouldn't flow again returning in earnest. She swung her legs down, pushing with her arms to right herself so that she was treading water instead of floating on its surface. "Hulali never took me down those streams so... no use imaginin', I s'pose. Ye can probably go mad thinkin' 'bout might've beens and what ifs, Eon. It ent always nice to think of them things," she pointed out, sniffling a little.

"Think that's enough of a dip, ent it? Think I need more out o' tha' bottle. C'mon."

She splashed him, sending a massive wave his way that would flow over him if he remained floating, the girl laughing as she did it, mirth and sorrow mixing on her features, her lips twisting oddly as emotions fought on her features, her eyes watery bright. "Drug dealer or not, ye'll do," she added in a murmur, darting forward quickly to peck a kiss on his cheek before she struck out for shore, aiming for the little stretch of beach where he'd left the bottle of spirits.
Last edited by Aziza on Sat Nov 10, 2018 5:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Benton Borteillo
Posts: 99
Joined: Mon Jul 09, 2018 11:15 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Human
Occupation: Mr. Drug Dealer Drug Man- retiring.
: aka EON, Roswell Godfrey
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Sat Oct 06, 2018 12:26 pm

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Yaris 8, 2715....
A pain clutched his heart, a pain of guilt. The tears that dared tread down her cheeks were brought in by his prodding. It was true that a man could go mad thinking about could’ves and should’ves- only a matter of time for him, he supposed- but he also found that, in the right light, the imaginative pondering over fantasies solidified and finalized reality, as if they were the finishing lacquer to the woodwork of reality, bringing the colors and cuts one worked so hard for to life. His brother could still be alive- but he wasn’t, and Benton was going to forever be thankful for the years in which their kinship has cultivated two great men. He could’ve never gotten on the boat to Anaxas, never taken up his dealing- but this was where he belonged, and his imagination could barely think of anywhere else to put him. The greatness of life was being able to look back and see where you’d been in relationship to where you were, and Benton relished in the fact that a thousand bad experiences had made him into this powerful man.

Yet, he still felt guilty for bringing up the past as he watched tears trace dark trails down her cheeks as she righted herself in the water. He wasn’t sure what hurt her more- the fact that she was crying or that she tried to life through it. He avoided the brute of the wave she sent after him as she turned to leave him in the water after the leaving the ghost of a kiss on his cheek. In her propinquity, he grabbed her wrist, gently, but enough to stop her. He moved himself between her and the coast, feet beginning to graze the floor of the bay.

He wasn’t a man of many emotions, but he disliked hurting people without reason. Sure, he’d kill a man in a instant if he had reason, but there was no reason for him to hurt her. Not yet. The hand on her wrist moved to gently hold her upper arm, enough that she could escape if she wanted to. He hoped she didn’t want to. With his other hand, he caresses the side of her face, pushing away the stream of tears ineffectively with a wet thumb.

“We’ve talked a lot about the regrets of things we never did,” he mumbled quietly. “I don’t want to regret not doing this.” If she allowed him, he would pull her into his body, kissing her gently with a hand of seawater cupping her face. It was a passionate kiss, but not a greedy one, and he slowly pulled away after a few long seconds. He smirked at her, tapping her on the nose with his finger.

Drug dealer or not?” he scoffed after a moment, suddenly remembering her statement. “Please, I’m a commodity.” He joked, throwing a small splash her way. He turned to the shore, then glanced back over his shoulder as he felt the sand shift under his feet.

“I’ll race ya,” he laughed, a youthful spirit alighting his face.
In hell I'll be in good company.
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