Private Finished I'm proud to say I'm flawed but not that much

ReD · Sep 2, 2017

Lochlann had started to nod, following what the man was saying until what Charlie was saying really sunk in.

Lochlann blinked at him.

His eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

Lochlann's eyes had a hard time focusing on him, so Lochlann leaned forward, pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, and then he took a deep breath. When he looked up, it still took him a moment to focus, but the potential headache had disappeared.

"Wait, wait, wait," Lochlann said, speaking while Charlie stood up to go to the bookshelf. "Back up."

He realized that wasn't anyway to talk to a proffesor, not when this man had the power of life and detention, so Lochlann added, "sir" to the end.

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you knew Chaucer? And Arthur? The whole damn court?" Lochlann sounded incredulous, as though he was sure the professor was trying to dupe him, but was it really that impossible to believe?

The man told him he taught necromancy. Lochlann was a horse that turned into a person and ate people. Why should this be so unbelievable?

When he set the book down in front of him, Lochlann jumped. He still had not relaxed completely during this conversation, but he wasn't looking towards the door anymore.

He eyed the book dubiously.

It looked old. The human skin part had him a little creeped out, but Lochlann leaned forward, both tempted and terrified to touch it. He looked up and narrowed his eyes, studying Charlie's face. Was this a trap?

"Did you meet Geoffrey of Monmouth, too?" Lochlann asked. "What was he like? What was...what was Gawain like?"

Up close, Lochlann still smelled faintly of whisky and cigarettes.

He leaned over and picked up the mug of tea instead, not wanting to have it so close to the book. He expected that he would somehow manage to spill it on the book if he left it that close to the book on the table, so he held the mug close to him.

WorldDevourer · Sep 2, 2017

Charlie could smell the whisky and cigarettes on Lochlann, and for some reason, the sea air. Strangely, it reminded him of Dublin. He smiled as Lochlann picked up the tea. Finally, the boy was showing some kind of willingness to participate in this conversation.

"I met them all my friend. I lived for a while in oxford in the early 12th century. Geoffrey of Monmouth used to teach there. We used to borrow books from each other's libraries. And Gawain" Charlie smiled at the memory, reminiscing
"Gawain was one of the kindest people i have ever met. The epitome of loyalty, defender of the weak and helpless. I once saw him fight off eighteen men in a village square to defend the honor of a woman. I spent three weeks with King Arthur's court, most of which was spent playing cards at what would become the round table. Come to think of it, I think Galahad owes me eight florins."

"these are the joys of a long life. The world is a wonderful place. At the time i thought of them as no more than normal knights. Nothing is fantastic when viewed in minutiae. The average man you meet on the street might be the next Arthur, or, indeed, the next Mordred."
Charlie reached over the table and opened the book, the text facing Lochlann. The smell of ancient paper, slightly yellowed by the millennia filled the room. Long, looping handwritten script filled the page, which started 'He explained he must be on his way for he needed to find a place known as the Green Chapel...'

He looked at the boy. He needed something. The book meant little to him. Its age was immaterial, but to Lochlann, it was more valuable than any gold. He looked at Lochlann, with kind, blue eyes.

"Would you like it?, the book i mean?"

@ReD

ReD · Sep 3, 2017

Lochlann tried to hide the interest that creeped into his own green eyes. It came about as a softening of the skin right at the edges of his eyes, as though he was no longer trying to analyze every scenario for disaster, but was instead letting himself get lost in the stories Charlie was telling him.

Lochlann tried to picture the 12th century, of the man sitting before him playing cards with the figures that featured in Lochlann's favorite texts. Not favorites, Lochlann reminded himself. He didn't have favorites. Just things he hated less.

Lochlann had other questions, ones that were harder to pretend were book related, but he had enough alcohol in his blood that he didn't hesitate to ask, "What did it feel like? The table, I mean."

Lochlann was a creature of textures. Even now, his shaking hands holding the mug, Lochlann relished the feel of the ceramic and the smell of the hot tea.

Under the water, everything was muted and soft. The world was full of jutted angles and harder things here.

It was louder, too, which was arguably something Lochlann liked less, but gods, the music.

He'd long wished they talked more about what the table felt like. He wanted to know what it was like to sit at it and just run is hands over the surface of it.

When Charlie offered him the book, Lochlann didn't understand what he meant. The idea of gifts from strangers was not something Lochlann regularly experienced. Though his family had adapted well to living in a human world and Lochlann rarely even considered himself fae, there were still some lingering repercussions of being fae Lochlann had never fully gotten over.

Receiving a gift was one of them.

Though Lochlann could easily give a gift without expecting anything in return, he had no idea what to do with this stranger's kindness. It was unexpected.

Which made Lochlann again suspicious.

He was flustered, his face turning red in a nervous blush, and Lochlann put a hand up over his face for a moment to hide it while he tried to think of something, but it was hard to think now.

"N-no, thank you, I uh, appreciate the gesture but I couldn't accept," Lochlann said. His heart started to pick back up, reminding him that he was trapped, trapped, trapped.

Lochlann's eyes glanced back towards the wall but there was no window.

He swallowed.

He was terrified of what would happen if he accepted. How much debt to the other would Lochlann be in? Though he worked, there was no way he'd ever be able to afford something like this. Just the thought of it made his stomach curl. It should be in a museum if it wasn't in Charlie's office. Lochlann couldn't even stomach the thought of placing his disgusting hands on such a beautiful book and ruining it. He was quite certain he would ruin it if he did touch it.

Lochlann took a deep breath, feeling his head start to spin. He leaned forward, dropping his head low between his knees, and he tried to get a grip.

His eyes flashed to the door quickly.

Could he make it if he jumped over the other man and just booked it?

He hadn't tried in a while. Lochlann's whole body tensed, bracing himself for movement.

WorldDevourer · Sep 3, 2017

"The table" smiled Charlie, rubbing the thick glass top of the table which sat between the two of them "was much unlike this one. It was rough for one, and made of wood. Rough oak planks, lightly painted in a circle. The knights had a tendency to stick daggers in the table, so the table had several scars marring it's surface."

Charlie poured the last dregs of the teapot into his mug before reaching up and placing the teapot on the side to their left. He drained them. He noticed that, whilst the tea was in the boy's hands, he had drank none of it. He was using it as a hand warmer. He had noticed that about some people. The taste of the tea was immaterial, but the warmth it provided was invaluable.

The boy refused his gift. Which was odd. Everything in the file, and everything Charlie had read about Lochlann in the mysterious file he had slid under the desk said he would have accepted it. he boy looked panicked again. He looked ready to run. The comfort that the boy had slightly eased into was gone, replaced, once again, by the Deer in the headlights look, that of the frightened animal. And with that he realized what he had done. He had offered him a gift, with no charge or obvious catch. Somewhere in the file he had read that the boy was Fae. The Fae never offered gifts without some catch or hidden cost. They say the Fae are the most honest of the otherworldly folk, but that truth was not always the whole truth.

"The book will always be here, should you want it. No cost, no strings attached. I like you Lochlann. I think, one day, you'll go far." he smiled, with kind blue eyes, hoping to salvage the converation. "I'll always be here too, for anything for a chat about the knights of old, to how your schoolwork is going. My door is always open. Metaphorically of course, if it was open all the time it would let in an awful draft."

@ReD

ReD · Sep 3, 2017

Lochlann's eyes followed Charlie's hands down to the table. He tried to picture it, oak and with the knicks from daggers pressed into it. He thought about running his hands over the table just in front of him now, with the glass surface, and Lochlann moved one hand away from the mug.

He caught what he was doing and sat there on the edge, frozen.

And then, as Charlie was telling him the door was always open, something happened: Lochlann's phone went off.

Lochlann was already on edge.

His heart was still saying trapped, trapped, trapped, and when his phone went off Lochlann didn't immediately recognize what the vibrating sensation against his side was.

He jerked forward, spilling the mug onto himself which now meant that he was wet, which sent another sudden spike of panic. It didn't matter that he had his stupid necklace on and that the chances of him losing control were slim.

This was all he needed to have happen now and he was back off to juvie for sure, this was probably all an elaborate trap by the professor.

Lochlann lost the capacity to think of anything other than escaping.

Lochlann let out a surprised curse in Welsh that was half "oh fucking shit" and half "I'm so sorry" as he stood up suddenly, soaking himself in the rest of the tea. Lochlann stood up fast. He put the now-empty mug on the table, his shaking hands surprisingly manage to find the right table because his vision had doubled now that he stood up so quickly.

"Thank you but I should really go," Lochlann said, his words streaming together into one panicked sentence. Charlie was across from him, facing the door, and that meant Lochlann had to bypass him to get to the door

which would make it easy for the professor to grab him if that was his intention

and if he was grabbed he might go back to juvie
and fuck he couldn't go back
not again

Lochlann sidestepped, his wild eyes still on the professor, and that was exactly why Lochlann missed the sarcophagus on the floor. It was technically out of the way, not in a place he would have stepped if he was paying attention, which...he wasn't.

Lochlann's momentum was fucked from the alcohol and his own dizziness.

He tripped over the box, crashing back into the couch with such a rush that Lochlann managed to flip the couch on top of himself.

This sent another spiral of panic over him because he was now definitely trapped, and he crawled out from beneath it and practically scrambled across the floor in a mad rush to the door.

Which, as Charlie had pointed out if Lochlann had actually been taking in what he said, was closed. He didn't want a draft, after all.

Lochlann crashed into it and fell backwards onto his ass.

He picked himself up, shook his head like a horse might, and reached for the door handle with hands that forgot what they were doing.

"Sorry," he shouted again and Lochlann took of running down the hall.

He didn't realize he'd left his phone on the floor behind him.

WorldDevourer · Sep 4, 2017

Charlie sat calmly at the sofa as Lochlann made his escape.

Lochlann's exit was one of the least graceful things Charlie had ever seen. He had managed to thankfully avoiding too much damage, but he had tripped over the sarcophagus. That would bruise. No permenant damage done. He was afraid the boy had damaged his mug. He couldn't care less about the book, but the necropolis gift shop had changed the design of his mugs and it was a little too 'goth' for his tastes.

He picked up the two mugs and walked outside the door, just seeing the tail end of an escaping Lochlann. Charlie walked over to the window, turned the handle, and threw the cold contents of the mug out of the window. What an interesting boy. Trying so hard to be human, but still has the fae about him. The fae weren't designed to be caged, and humanity was nothing but one big cage, Charlie mused, Maybe thats why he acts out.

Charlie returned to his office, picked up the sofa cushion Lochlann had been sitting on, and plumped it up. It smelt vaguely of cigarettes and cheap whiskey. That may be why he acts out, chuckled charlie, too much o' the creature. He replaced the cushion, and moved the coffee table back into position from where Lochlann had nudged it as he made his escape.

And as he did so he noticed something. It was sleek, black, and lying amidst the carnage wrought by the charging lochlann.

It was Lochlann's phone.

He picked it up and examined it, and placed it onto his desk, besides a novelty pen holder which read 'pretty fly, for a wight guy'

Charlie reached under the sofa and removed the file. It was slightly slimy, but otherwise unharmed. He placed it onto his desk and flipped it open the back of the file. Charlie removed a sheet of hole-punched paper from his desk, and inserted it into the file. From the pen holder he removed a black metallic pen.

"Productive meeting" Charlie wrote, in immaculate copperplate handwriting. He looked at the small black rectangle which buzzed quietly "will reconvene at a later point..."

@ReD

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Private Finished I'm proud to say I'm flawed but not that much

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.

ReD

Sex & Death Everywhere

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.