[MATURE] Better the Devil You Know...

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Fionn
Posts: 298
Joined: Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:17 am
Topics: 31
Race: Passive
Occupation: Misery
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Writer: Maximus
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Tue Jan 15, 2019 9:31 am

Dentis 12, 2718 | Evening
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Fred had been dead for two days now and things still weren't entirely settled down. The previous day had been taken up with some investigation, some of the passives in his wing having been questions about the dead patron's habits, his final movements and the like. Fionn had been asked, namely because someone had mentioned that he had a lot of dealings with the man although thankfully nobody knew the true extent of that; they just thought that he got into trouble a lot, which certainly wasn't false.

Years before Fionn had learned that the best lies contained as much truth as possible. If you told actual lies then you had more to remember. Actually, he'd been taught to lie and while he perhaps wasn't a master at it, he could certainly get by and people tended to believe him. The other thing that he'd learned was that if he was questioned that he should say as little as possible in his answers so that his questioners would have to drag words out of him. It was a good technique if it was done right. You weren't necessarily being smart arsed just answering questions precisely and without elaboration. Whoever was asking the questions tended to get frustrated and he'd taken a few belts about the head for keeping it closed so much but ultimately, he tended to get away with it. Interestingly, while they viewed his attitude as belligerent, they seemed willing to believe what they got out of him; he was considered too stupid and lacking in imagination to lie.

Had he seen Fred on the 10th? Yes.

Did he see him during the night? Yes.

Where had he seen him? The bathhouse.

Had he seen where Fred had gone? No.

Was he capable of saying more than a word at a time? Sir?

The man who'd questioned him had looked like he'd wanted to smack the boy about the head, but perhaps the way that he stared with slightly dead brown eyes unsettled him and he decided that Fionn wasn't capable of hiding anything.

He'd actually been pulled from his shift to be interrogated and possibly he hadn't been the only one. It was only a brief respite before he had to go back to hauling sacks of flour and the like to the stores as the deliveries came in. Couldn't let the brats do without after all, very important so he couldn't be kept from his work for long; gods forbid that the galdori should suffer for even a moment.

However, he'd gotten wind that Fred had a replacement long before his shift ended, word seeming to spread between the passives, brief words conveying little that could be hissed between them in a moment. No questions were asked - they never could be - but the servant wasn't interested in any case. It didn't matter who it was, especially as it might not be someone that he knew very well, more than likely someone had been elevated to the position and had probably come from a different wing altogether. Fionn might have been bounced around the place a great deal and the scrap community was a small enough one but he didn't know everyone, partially because he hadn't had the curiosity to find out about them. If he didn't need to deal with them then... who cared honestly?

As such, he didn't know anything about it until after his shift, the young man washing up when he overheard two of his compatriots talking about it. In truth, he hadn't been listening to the conversation at all, full of nervousness as he simply tried to clean up, get dressed and get out of there as soon as possible; the bathhouse was now permanently triggering for the incident with Fred. He wouldn't have engaged at all if he hadn't heard the name, one he hadn't heard in close to six years.

Ayden.

"Did you say Ayden?" he questioned in a hiss, resisting the urge to glance around to see if the patron watching them was paying attention; looking for him was a clear admission that you thought you were doing something that might get you into trouble. The servants he'd questioned with surprising venom were younger than him and he vaguely recalled having seen them on his wing. They either knew of him or they didn't much like his tone because they shrank back, one holding a towel like a shield while the other clung to the shirt in his hands as if he was ready to whip it at Fionn and run at the first opportunity.

"Uh... yes?" hazarded Towel Boy, exchanging a nervous look with Shirt Whipper as if frightened that he'd given the wrong answer to this flushed face young man whose water-darkened blond hair stuck out in damp bristles from being towelled.

"Why are you talking about Ayden?" he snapped out.

With the way Towel Boy was looking at him, he would soon need another bath because he looked like he was going to wet himself.

"H-h-he's the new p-p-p-patron in our wing? Instead of Fr-Fr-Fred."

He could have hoped that these boys were from another wing, another wing where Ayden was now their patron but then they named his predecessor and Fionn felt his stomach lurch, the meal he'd so recently eaten suddenly in danger of escaping. Terror went through him, coursing sharply through his veins, a unique near pain. He turned away from the boys, both of them forgotten. They weren't important. They weren't-

Ayden!

Sweet Alioe!

Could it be true? How could it be true? He was working for a galdori professor, they wouldn't have dragged him away from that just to oversee some passives!

Could they?

There was fear in him as he finished dressing himself, that was true, but it was more complicated than that. There was a nervous excitement, an anticipation in him at the idea of seeing him again. It had been so long and warped though it was, in some very twisted way, he had missed him!

But he hated him. Sort of. Maybe.

It was quite complicated.

By the time he was dressed and heading for his own wing, he was keyed up, actually trembling as he walked, his heart beating so fast that he was feeling more than a little unwell. He felt untethered, ready to float away at any moment as he headed for Fred's - well, Ayden's - room. He stopped dead when he came in sight of the door though, caught in place as he found himself unable to go forward or go back.

What was he going to do, knock on the man's door? Hey, Ayd, long time no see, I'm one of those kids you used to do things to and I still like you apparently, will you be my friend again?

Oh Alioe no, he couldn't say that, he couldn't start this relationship again, what was he thinking? Ayden had used him. He'd abused him. He'd manipulated him. He'd taught him how to lie successfully, taught him how to cover his own tracks so that he could effectively cover Ayden's. He'd helped protect the older passive. He wasn't the only one, certainly not but that didn't make it any better. He'd let the passive away with horrible things, basically enabled his abuse not just of him but of others. Fionn had been one of his Special Boys. He'd never known who else was affected but he knew that he wasn't entirely alone. Ayden had other 'special' relationships but of course, there had only been Ayden for him; the older passive had kept him carefully isolated after all.

He couldn't start this again.

He took a step back, finding himself impossibly drawn towards that door, the pull to see him impossibly strong. He hadn't known it'd be like this. He hadn't known that'd be-

There was laughter, the door opening, men's voices including that familiar tone that he would know anywhere, even after the gap of years. He retreated to his own door, finding himself looking back though instead of escaping through it as he should have done.

Chatting away with that easy camaraderie to a man similar in age to him, a man that Fionn knew to be a real goodie on the wing, was Ayden. It was him. Undeniably him. He'd been an adult when Fionn arrived so it wasn't as if he'd expected a change but he had. A bit narrower in frame than he'd been before, maybe, not quite as strong perhaps but it was hard to tell when he was trying to remember him through younger eyes when he himself had been smaller. Even now being taller than the typical male galdor, Ayden still had a fair bit of height on him. He was a bit more mature in the face, the angles sharper, more distinctly masculine. He looked healthy, practically glowing with it, a light stubble visible even against the background of his freckles and he looked... he looked good. Really good.

The blond would have stayed staring at him, admiring his features and drinking him in, his smile, hearing the timbre of his voice and his laughter. However, his head turned, blue eyes flicking down the corridor in an idle glance although perhaps he sensed Fionn's gaze on him. Either way, as soon as he looked his way, the young passive was gone, disappearing into his room so that Ayden wouldn't see him.

His heart was thundering, giddy and terrified at once, legs suddenly wobbly beneath him. A nervous giggle rose up and escaped, the young man glad that neither of his roommates were there. He leaned back against the room's door, breathing heavily as if he'd just been sprinting, fanning himself as he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him.

Ayden was the new Fred.

Oh no, he couldn't cope with this again, hadn't recovered from what happened the last time. Oh he really hadn't dealt with all of that, not yet. But also... he was back and it was wonderful.

Fionn had missed him and he really, really shouldn't have.

By the time he had company again, he was in control, sprawled out on his bed, thinking about Ayden and remembering. It was mixed up with guilt and shame and elation and lust, his new patron a very complicated individual for him. There was an odd impatience in him, the young man wanting to be left in peace in the dark, his roommates asleep so he could remember properly. Daydreaming. Fantasising. Thinking of the bottle of kojala oil under his bed and wanting to fish it out, the blond distant while he was lost inside his own thoughts.

Unbeknownst to him, Ayden had seen him before he got into his room, that slow and secretive smile appearing as the blond head vanished. The face was older, yes, but still recognisable. And he still had an effect on the lad.

... Good.

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