Ride with Me

1 day ago with 42 notes — via ukutsu

Blandishment

He couldn’t tell half the time what this man was thinking. It was enough to make him wonder every thought that passed the mystery man’s brain. What was so special about him? In a way he was proud of his reaction, he didn’t falter nor did ne shrink back from the open knowledge that he wasn’t 100% human being. At the same time, the exact reaction could be reversed to John. It was apparent that neither were what they looked like. Appearances meant so much in this day and age, and hiding what they were was key to keeping the entire world in balance. Was he speaking too much? Probably. He still wasn’t accustomed to speaking to people that weren’t tied, gagged or bleeding or desperate enough for a better life. This man needed nothing, nor did he pretend that his life was perfect. He simply was, and he had no clue how much that Mason envied it.

‘You’ll never have what he has, angel friends, hunter friends. Look at you. You’ll never be normal, nothing close, nothing fucking an inch to what this man has. You just want to destroy him, don’t you Mason? Make him like me. You break everything, you can’t have anything nice. Isn’t that what your daddy said? You can’t have anything nice Mason!’

Oh yes, Carl was getting stronger. July was approaching. Don’t think about it, don’t let him in. Don’t let him penetrate your mind. He chuckled, a forced habit to kick the Nazi out of his psyche.

“You keep looking at me like that, I’m goin’ to assume you’ve been deprived of conversation and company other than your beloveds.” Not that he had any room to talk, and he knew it, still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to state what seemed obvious to him. This man was poise, very intelligent and other-worldly, but there was something…missing. His place in time. “You don’t belong here,” he said with surety in his tone. “It’s why you look like you belong in paintings long since past. It’s why this Athens owl means so much, why your smile is so…practiced.” He looked down to the ring, reaching out to touch it. Mechanics like this interested him. The ring he had created for Dmitriel had taken weeks, etching at all painstaking hours of the night to get the spell just right in the wheels. This had the same sort of feel. Craftsmanship, something to be proud of, it was something he appreciated even in his human years. “And your lover, of course he knows…” He tilted his head back. Oh, of course, it was all coming together. “You and I are a lot alike, I hope you know. It makes sense now…Amazing.” His voice was passionate and flabbergasted that he hadn’t noticed sooner. He really did have the worst time being social outside of the demented. Dmitriel didn’t like his profession and the way John mentioned time…yes, of course…they were two peas in a pod.

“You know, formalities are wonderful, and they keep society in check, but I feel your curiosity, and sooner or later I will get sauced in this establishment. I would rather be able to speak to you coherently before I lose all of my cognitive faculties.” He topped off his own drink again, filling it halfway this time. He shook his head. “No, Marlowe, no Shakespeare, no H.P. Lovecraft, as much as that would please me. I am…or was, just a man. But, I suppose you can call me a tragedy.” He pointed at him with his glass holding hand. “So are you.” The burning amber liquid was giving the crossroads demon an ego, bigger than it already was.

The looks they exchanged were still loaded and heavy. John knew Mason was trying to read him. There was a hint of frustration about him. He was becoming more and more willing to be accommodating, however. He wanted to offer something before the past reared it’s head. There was a difference between the two men, in their poise. He hoped that wouldn’t be an issue, but it was better to pacify. As long as he could see any threats coming. At the moment, John felt no danger from the man. He was just interested. Intrigued. The bourbon had helped that along.

There was that heat in his head, the slight foggy feeling that he should have known was coming. It always managed to surprise him. It was strange, really. He could practically see it crossing the room, ready to embrace him, but when he drank enough, it was still a disappointing surprise when his perception turned sluggish. A man of his intellect, he never liked the dulling of the sharp blade that was his mind. John always told him he could surpass it in a few more drinks. He could reach that state of lucidity with just a little more consumption…

The glass in his hand was empty now, and he hadn’t even felt the burn in his throat.

He took a moment to blink, to swallow, and to refocus.

Even this deep in his cups—and half the bottle was now gone—he was still highly functioning. His inhibitions were lowered was all, as cliche as that might be. He was more prone to emotions as well. Yet with Mason, so far, there was nothing extreme. The only thing to be found utterly different, if he could have examined himself, he would have noted, was the increased joy he was taking in the game.

There was still a level of caution, somewhere in the filter of his thoughts, that he should precede carefully with this still near-stranger. Yet the drink made him bold. The clues, the dance, the back-and-forth chess game they were playing was exciting.

Still leaning back in his chair, John admitted to the man’s correct assumption with a nod and a flourish of his hand. “We keep to ourselves, mostly. He’s more social than I, though I do enjoy a conversation such as this when the opportunity presents itself.” He could see that Mason had more to say. He inclined his chin slightly, a faint smile crossing his lips, as he kept talking.

The smile grew wider with everything said. It broke into a full grin when he called him on it being so practiced.

“Your skills at deduction are admirable. And they speak to your nature as well,” With a nod, he reached into his jacket packet to pull out a pack of Kreteks. He smoked rarely, usually only after a few drinks. He preferred the flavour of cloves. John offered one to Mason before putting one to his lips and lighting it.

Inhaling, he blew out the smoke slowly. He let the man touch the ring, watching him examining it. He handled it with a kind of reverence and John noted the respect. He appreciated such things. Well, that was more points in his favor.

“He not only knows,” He said. “I brought him with me.”

He wasn’t really affirming or denying anything said, though the answers were very obvious. There were a lot more details to be filled in, but he would let them fall where they would, when the time came. “Are we?” John said, taking the cigarette from his mouth. He was smiling again. His new friend seemed to be just as excited as he was. Leaning forward, John lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I think I can agree with that,” He said, holding up his empty glass.

“So what is it, then? My uniqueness is learned—created. But you, no, you’re beyond that. Once a man. Now fallen, perhaps? Indeed, how poetic. Those authors only wish they could have dreamed you up.” He shrugged, leaning back again as well. “Us up.”

John put the fag back to his lips. “I was born in 1892. I didn’t perfect my Device until after the Great war. The owl is from Athens. It was one of the first places I went when I perfected my traveling technique.” Leaning back to exhale, he watched Mason with a smile on his face as he stopped playing coy, and started to speak the truth.

1 day ago with 25 notes — via masonatlas

#Blandishment #masonatlas

Reblog if I can send you darker starters.

2 days ago with 2,640 notes — via iprefertotext, © thecenturionwhowillnotwait

→ Want the complete opposite of John? Give my new character a try.