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"So how'd you get that scar, anyway?" |
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Reckless drags a finger over the deformed skin under Aramis' right eye, taking a sort of strange pleasure at the flaw on his otherwise perfect face. Aramis flinches a bit, his eyes squinting as if he expected Reckless to strike him. "I really don't want to get into it," he sighs. They shift uncomfortably in Aramis' small bed, both yanking at the blankets in an effort to better cover their unclothed bodies. Through the window, sunlight washes over the cherrywood floor, bouncing off of the soft, earthtone wall tiles and throwing tiny fragments of light on their faces. It was a beautiful morning, but Aramis didn't really feel like getting out of bed just yet."
"I thought I asked you a question," Reckless yawned, putting an arm around the blonde's shoulders and pulling him close. "I don't want to have to ask you again." He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, pulling the sweaty locks away from his face. His icy white eyes fix on Aramis, daring him to refuse his request again. "...All right, all right," Aramis whispers, defeated. "I'll tell you."
Aramis stands up and reaches for his clothes, which lie in a crumpled pile at the foot of his bed. "I was fifteen at the time," he begins, taking a seat in his chair and putting his feet into his boxers. "Just barely. I'd already left Meenah and abandoned Clan Seraphim. I was living on my own, with nowhere to turn. The one friend I had, I'd killed." "Mik," Reckless murmered. "Exactly," Aramis confirmed. "After Meenah, I went back up north to Kalim-D'ai, back to the only place I'd really felt was home. And, like he'd always been before I was uprooted and moved to Teehs, Mik was there for me. He was my best friend growing up, and when I told him what I'd done... he decided to leave the priesthood in order to make sure I wouldn't go off the deep end." He pulls his boxers up and slides one foot into the leg of his pants, then the other. Standing up, he hoists his pants up to his waist, buttoning and zipping them up. "We took all we could carry with our two hands and left Kalim-D'ai that day. We wandered around a lot, never having a place to rest our heads. In fact, we slept outside most of the time, using spare coats and clothes for our pillows and blankets. One day, someone introduced me to camythius. And that was the end of me."
Reckless spread his arms out wide and stretched loudly, sitting up, his pale skin seeming to glow in the newfound morning. "Drugs will do that to you," he mused, throwing the blanket off of himself and reaching for his clothes. "Yeah, well... it had taken a hold of me, to say the least," Aramis muttered, pulling his olive green T-shirt over his head. "I'd become hopelessly addicted. I started doing things I thought I'd never do in order to afford another hit. I cleaned out sewage systems... barnyards... performed hours upon hours of manual labor for scant pay... I even started picking pockets and carrying out assassinations. At fifteen."
He pauses a moment to watch as Rekcless pulled on his white T-shirt. "Go on, I'm listening," the brunette mused.
"One day, Mik and I got into a fight outside of a tavern I'd been in earlier. I was trying to get into some guys' pockets and got caught. It didn't help that I had a little too much to drink myself. In any case, long story short, Mik stepped in and handled the guy, 1-2-3. Left him flat on his back, a bloodied and bruised mess. A couple of nights later, in another bar, I'm approached by three men. Seems they were friends of the guy Mik beat to a pulp the night before. Mik and I were dragged outside, behind the bar. I was way too drunk to do anything about it. They beat Mik unconscious and left him there to die while two of the men grabbed hold of both my arms and forced me to my knees. The third guy pulled out this... this really huge knife, I mean the biggest damned knife I've ever seen... And he literally tried to take my head off with it. He went around the back of my neck and up, through to the right side of my face. Luckily for me, those guys were just as drunk as I was, if not more so. I got so weak from blood loss that I passed out. They must have thought I was dead or something... In any case, the next morning, Mik got me to a doctor. They banaged me up, but this," he says, pointing to his scar, "was never going to go away. So... yeah. Now you know how I got it."
Reckless stares at him momentarily, unsure of what to say or how to react. In a moment's time, however, he falls back into his usual self. "Too bad for you," he mutters. Aramis fixes his eyes on Reckless, admiring how the light catches on his pale skin. "Yeah... thanks for the sympathy."
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Fri Mar 04, 2005 @ 05:27pm · 0 Comments |
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