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Post by Krakenbox on Feb 28, 2021 19:37:32 GMT -8
The shift had been long, though not in the way that would normally tire him out. The teachers were on it, for once, and the classrooms had been cleaned before his shift with a small thank you note and heart shaped cookies the kids had frosted. They had been doing an 'appreciation week' and apparently they had settled on Rowan as one of their focuses. It was a nice gesture, but going home early could backfire, then there really wasn't a lot to do to stretch out the eight hours. He felt a little dazed and out of it; the minutes turning back into minutes instead of hours as time made sense again. The frosting was hardcore to make up for the somewhat bland sugar cookies — not terrible for a normal palette, but he scraped the technicolor butter cream with an idle thumb that was tossed to the pigeons in the basketball court. A sharp whistle pierced the silence of the settling evening, startling a few of the determined birds to scattering sprinkles and dirt. The temporary flash of light could have been the position of the sunset, sending everything into shadow as his eyes adjusted. |
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Post by Rowan on Feb 28, 2021 19:58:48 GMT -8
Here's the thing. He had walked the perimeter of the school before, many many times. Kids were an easy target, that was something he knew first hand. He'd been on patrols and vigils, he'd scared kids off the grounds.
But this shift. This dang shift that had stretched and compressed and dragged on like taffy had him messed up. So of course, of course it had to be the moment when someone sneaked up on him. Rowan heard the note and looked up with the blandest expression he could manage.
"Please get off from there. some kid is gonna get it into their head to do the same." He wiped the frosting on his fingers against his jumper. His body language shifted however - always ready, Scout's honour.
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Post by Golden Boy on Feb 28, 2021 20:25:15 GMT -8
The Fairest obliged, vaulting off the pole in a lazy movement as he landed on all fours into a somersault to break the distance. Golden Boy bounced on his heels to skip in front of Rowan, smiling as he stood, "Hey!" he chirped, sidestepping as his instincts told him to flinch back. The easy, waving movement reminded Rowan of a graceful viper.
He seemed in a good mood, however. Excited, even.
"I went to this school, once... I don't think anyone actually managed to climb that."
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Post by Rowan on Feb 28, 2021 20:43:46 GMT -8
For a split second, his vision went blank and shadows danced at the edge of his vision. Rowan always had a hard time with Golden's Mantle; it was too familiar. He shook it off.
"You know kids. Always looking for a role model. Hey back, Golden."
A little spark of curiosity sprouted in his mind. "Did you? When was that?" Was Golden alone, or had the rest of the motley followed? Realistically, the Darkling wasn't keen about dealing with Aello on top of the Winter Mantle and he simply couldn't imagine Cinder coming to this part of town. Prejudiced? Maybe a little.
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Post by Golden Boy on Feb 28, 2021 23:21:53 GMT -8
"Wouldn't know, never had one," he said with a shrug.
As Rowan looked around for anything strange or alarming, the Fairest sighed. "Here."
He twirled a pair of daggers, before flicking them casually at the Darkling.
They didn't land anywhere interesting, skidding innocently on the asphalt to stop in front of Rowan. He clapped once, before shaking empty jazz hands. "Better?"
He sounded annoyed, cocking an eyebrow like he was daring him to imply any other dark intent.
"Four or five years ago. There was a bunch of them, but I remember. That. Window." He gestured to one near the top floor, newer than the others with the rust not having set in just yet. "Facing the yard almost felt like it was specifically positioned to mock me. I'd get called on to pay attention, and that never seemed to go well," he chuckled.
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Post by Rowan on Mar 1, 2021 18:10:22 GMT -8
When the steel flashed, Rowan's instinct kicked in. For a moment, moisture solidified into claws as he braced for impact. Golden Boy was toying with his nerves and the Darkling forced himself to not mention the possibility of back-up after a show of disarm. Instead, he relaxed and the talons dispersed back into water that dripped down his hands.
"Before my time, then. I also went here. My classroom faced the street though."
Quick math placed a young boy between 12 and 16 where the Winter Courtier's place - barely older than Rowan had been. It was difficult to tell, given the scales and the eternally young features. He stood still and let the silence stretch, inviting Golden to feed the conversation. People didn't like silence and many would talk simply to cover it. Some times, they even talked too much. Rowan broke off a little of the cookie and took a bite. The texture felt rough and sweet and hard. Without the excessive frosting on top.
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Post by Golden Boy on Mar 1, 2021 18:46:27 GMT -8
"Oh, you're, like from Whitney," he clarified, blinking. His body language ticked back again as the claws were summoned, and he kept moving slowly to give the energy somewhere to go, shoes scraping the gavel. It was a little off-putting that he carried on the conversation as normal despite his body acting like he was a weasel sizing up a snake.
"You must know the blocks and shit really well. Took me forever to map everything out."
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Post by Rowan on Mar 1, 2021 19:01:54 GMT -8
"Born and raised," he answered. "I used to bike here. Got lost a couple of times, before getting, you know, Lost."
There was tension. Rowan's best guess was that Golden Boy had Seen Some Shit, and he knew the boy had a temper - he'd seen it during Imbolc. He was no stranger to violence and he was, after all, Winter. It was a Mexican standoff, or a staring contest, or something. They were both walking on eggshells.
"I take it you're not? People rarely move into Whitney. By choice at least." Rowan knew very little about him, their interactions usually happening on the periphery of interactions with Tanner and Cinder. It was always the quiet ones...
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Post by Golden Boy on Mar 1, 2021 19:13:59 GMT -8
"Comes with the territory," Golden Boy said, that shit-earing grin flashing. There was a pause, "I'm not allowed to talk about it. Not being difficult on purpose." Where the lie sat was a mystery, but he seemed to be getting some weird sort of entertainment over how this was going.
He snickered.
"You got taken young? Sorry to hear that." The mischief dropped for a second; a genuine expression of sympathy as all the movement stopped.
He glanced at the window again, thinking.
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Post by Rowan on Mar 1, 2021 19:36:22 GMT -8
Red flags popped up every which way in Rowan's head and he tried to not let it show. Some Oath was probably involved, and Wyrd-enforced secrecy was never good news.
He tilted his head at the flicker of empathy. "Yeah, last year. A lifetime ago, now."
"Thanks. People tell me they're sorry, but they don't really get it, you know? I've tried explaining, can't find the right words."
He paused, working his mind around a list of questions he had tucked away. "Can I, um, ask you something?"
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Post by Golden Boy on Mar 1, 2021 19:55:54 GMT -8
"Felt like a year, but," he shrugged, cutting himself off. He knew by now that everyone's experience was just the abstract. Maybe it was just a year, or Rowan only had memories of a year to cobble together, or he had cycled through incarnations of purpose and structure, jumping Kiths and molding Seemings.
It took a few ugly interactions, but he had learned that picking apart and assessing the nature of a Lost's Durance versus their feelings on the manner was probably one of the meanest things you could do. It could even send them into a fugue if you were relentless enough in your curiosity. "You're here now, so."
Now was relative.
At Rowan's question, he sniffed, "You can. Anyone can, unless I keep you from speaking."
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Post by Rowan on Mar 1, 2021 20:18:32 GMT -8
As far as threats went, this one was pretty straightforward. Golden Boy had the posture and bearing for it, Rowan had to give him that. He shifted on his feet and finished his cookie before speaking.
"Is the Twilight always so cold?" He brushed off the crumbs that stuck to his still wet hands and slowly put them into his pockets. "I heard your King is a Gravewright, figured you might know something."
That wasn't the real question, the one that he had pushed down out of fear. This one was easy, for him at least. Less personal involvement, more professional curiosity.
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Post by Golden Boy on Mar 1, 2021 20:27:54 GMT -8
"Not to my knowledge," he said easily enough, tucking his hands in his pockets, before withdrawing them.
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Post by Rowan on Mar 1, 2021 20:46:14 GMT -8
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Post by Krakenbox on Mar 1, 2021 21:14:44 GMT -8
Golden Boy's not lying about Twilight, but compounded the answer to try and dodge talking about Nohoilpi.
The Fairest is agitated, but seems to be actively looking for reasons to not be? It's like he's focused on needing to complete a specific task that requires aggression, but doesn't want to and is actively procrastinating. A normal response to his hands disappearing would be that he's trying to pull something, but Rowan's able to relate to the delayed correction of a social faux pas: keep your hands in sight vs. an instinct to hide.
Around his motley he's usually a lot warmer and confident, and around strangers he's usually irritatingly smarmy. This is different, though — more serious, and he's trying to honour that.
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