Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
It takes twenty minutes for the two boys to get to Milo's home and by that time, they're more soaked than Milo could have imagined. The soles of his shoes feel like wet sand, squelching with every step he takes up toward his front door. He can hear himself panting and can only imagine that his breath is expelling vapour out of his mouth like a dragon in a story book, or his father smoking a pipe. The second one seemed slightly more realistic.
Despite the frigid air and the sleet rain that they had endured for the entire journey, Milo's hands felt clammy from all of the exertion. There was a part of him that felt completely rotten for having asked Aubert to help him home, unsure whether the other man lived further away and was just being kind or not. So far, Aubert had been a perfectly kind human being for taking the time out of his evening to help the blind idiot who had gotten lost on the way home, Milo just hoped he hadn't gone too far out of his way.
Tugging his keys out of his pocket and shucking his wet shoes off to tuck under his arm, Milo quickly jammed the key into the lock and turned it. Stepping into the house and removing his over coat, Milo juggled the clothing a little before stepping far enough into the hallway to let Aubert in. "Sorry, it's a bit cold in here as well, I'll turn the heating on in a moment and put on the kettle" signalling to Aubert to follow him into the house, Milo walked down the hallway into the small, almost cozy kitchen and slung his trench coat over one of the counter stools "Feel free to take your shoes off if you like, I imagine you're completely soaked."
Stepping out of the room for a moment and returning with a coat hanger and a thick towel, Milo appeared to move around the apartment with the precision of a man who wasn't disabled by his blindness. Of course, this was the space Milo occupied with full comfort at almost all times, it was only his apartment and Nightshade that he could completely manoeuvre himself without any trouble at all. Placing his shoes on the ground under the stool he had tossed his trench coat onto, Milo offered the coat hanger to the space he assumed Aubert was occupying, a guess he had made from the slight shivering in the other man's breaths.
"Please, make yourself at home," he requested quietly, shifting behind the counter in the kitchen to pick up the remote and turn the heating system on, then preoccupy himself with filling the kettle with water "Would you prefer tea or coffee?"
Aubert's low tolerance for inconvenience had made him a demanding, whiny child who would refuse any and all activities for the most vapid reasons, and so enduring not only the tumult but the burden of the blind man left him feeling martyred by his circumstances. And the overhang of the massive apartment building's overhang was the belated answer to the man's empty, short-breathed prayers. Part of him had wanted to linger beneath the cloth-and-wire covering, still panting and freezing, just to solidify the relief-- the victory-- in his mind, but the other rational bits of him spurred him further into the familiar residences.
At Milo's door, he'd felt the nausea slip back into his stomach; turning flips and anxious twirls as the blind man fumbled with his keys. The apartment itself was arranged in a fashion similar to his own flat a few stories up, and he was surprised at the space's cleanliness considering the condition its renter was in.
"Sorry, it's a bit cold in here as well, I'll turn the heating on in a moment and put on the kettle. Feel free to take your shoes off if you like, I imagine you're completely soaked."
He waited for Milo to slip out of the kitchen area before he ventured further into the man's personal living quarters; reminding himself, once again, that it didn't matter considering Milo would never catch him snooping. His visual investigation was cut short, though, as he rounded the galley style counter just as the near-stranger ambled back into the room, a coat hanger and a towel in his hands. Aubert was about to accept both when he felt another sneeze and turned with dramatic urgency to catch the action with the crook of his elbow.
"Excuse me," he shed his own sopping jacket and angled it onto the hanger before snatching the large towel and draping it over his shoulders, "Again."
The rain flung itself against the windows with the same vigor it'd seen fit to use on their slow-slogging bodies, and Aubert had to grab his elbows to keep from shaking. His eyes fell on the discarded trench coat and he made a mental note to rifle through it later if Milo proved to be as interesting and involved as he had seemed in Kuu. Obliging the man's request, he sank onto one of the stools, undid his ruined shoes and wrenched them off along with his soaked socks.
"Should I leave these outside?" he said, holding up the offending garments, before he remembered to clarify, "Ah, I mean, my shoes-- Yes."
He forced a cough as if it would smooth over the tension between them-- most of which were his own, invented micro-crises -- and watched the fluid progression of the blind man through the space. If Aubert had not been so self absorbed and obsessed with the outcome of this visit, he might have marveled at the blind man's meticulous familiarity with his apartment, but, to him, it registered more as a red flag; something that might hinder any information he would have gleaned out of their exchange. The light caught in the cloudy eyes of the man and Aubert looked at his naked feet, heart pounding with something that made him feel sicker than usual.
"Coffee,"(Too bold, aubert)"I mean, tea,"(Too subdued, you want him to think you're helpless here?)"Actually," his voice cracked, "I'll have whatever you're having."
Exhaling, he laid his head on the cold counter and tried to steady his shaking body. The weather had drained him more than he'd expected and the annexing of stresses-- the blind man, the running-- had not settled into his already delicate physicality well. A beat and he glanced up at Milo, as if the man had been watching him indulge the weakness, but dropped his gaze instantly as he saw himself, pale and disheveled, in the glassy, vacant eye of the blind man.
tagged: milo jones notes: -clears throat- first they did... the fffRICK.
Feeling considerably more comfortable in an environment he was used to, filled with smells and touches he dealt with on a daily basis, Milo could feel the muscles across his body relax and his posture seem to settle into a soft pull of limbs and rustled clothing.
The dampness on his shirt sleeves where he had stretched out in the rain to try and find Aubert matched the soaked tips of his trousers. Milo supposed it would have been a better idea to change out of the damp clothes completely, but he'd been in such a rush to make Aubert comfortable that the real issues had been lost in the mess.
Caught up in the mixture of his thoughts and the task of filling the kettle, Milo flinched slightly at the unannounced sound of Aubert's sneeze and water sloshed out of the kettle's spout down the front of the counter under the sink. Placing the kettle on the counter after it was properly filled, Milo grabbed the sponge from the sink and attempted to clean up the spillage while hiding the embarrassment on his face.
"N-no problem," picking himself up from the crouched spot on the kitchen floor, and moving his hand up the counter to make sure he'd gotten all the droplets "Would you like a blanket or something until the room warms up?"
Throwing the sponge back into the sink and picking up the kettle to move toward the stove, Milo kept up the attempt to keep his face hidden at least a little, though the efforts were proving to be useless when he realised he couldn't actually figure out where Aubert might be viewing him from.
"Should I leave these outside? ... Ah, I mean, my shoes-- Yes."
"Oh, uh, no it's all right, it's not like I can see if they're muddy," Milo laughed awkwardly before taking into consideration the fact that his joke may sound more pitiful than funny "Sorry, that- uh, don't mind me, I guess. I made a lot of stupid comments like that, just ignore me."
Slowly moving his hand along the switches for the electric stove top, Milo put the kettle down on the counter again and moved his hand to hover a few inches over the burner. Pressing the knob in, he listened to the stove click gently as the gas struggled to light, a second later though, Milo felt the strong heat warm his palm and he placed the kettle over the flame. "I can stick your shoes in front of the heating vent if you like, that way they should dry pretty soon.. your socks too, can't have you catching a cold," he remembered Aubert's sneezing then and realised he already might be too late to make that statement "Or uh, something worse, like pneumonia. Touch wood." To make his point, Milo knocked his knuckle against the varnished pine counter top.
Deciding that he should finally start paying some actual attention to his guest and give him some needed eye contact - to the best of his ability, Milo shifted his misty morning eyes toward Aubert's voice. Reaching up above the stove to pull two deep mugs down, Milo nodded at Aubert's answer to his question and pulled out a cannister of ground coffee.
"Coffee it is then... So, Aubert, tell me a little about yourself," he began, rolling up his damp sleeves to relieve his hands of the dripping fabric sticking uncomfortably to his wrists "I would have asked you earlier, but it wasn't really the right time I guess. Give me the general run down." As he waited for the kettle to boil, Milo occupied himself by wandering back into the bedroom to retrieve a towel for his dripping wet hair, and to change into a pair of comfortable cotton sweatpants and a baggy white t-shirt with a conspicuous rip in the collar.
Speaking up a little louder so Aubert could hear him clearly, though the door was slightly ajar and it may not have been completely necessary(it wasn't as though Milo would be able to tell if Aubert wanted to peek in on him anyway, so he didn't have to worry about the embarrassment), Milo thought to ask the other young man about his state of dress. "Oh, uh, would you like something to change into? I've got a few old shirts and running pants you can borrow if you like.. until your clothes are dry, of course." he came out of the room then, towelling off his hair and scrubbing at the thick, wet folded ears tucked beneath the mop of locks.
Wondering just exactly how ridiculous he looked to the other man seemed like far less of a priority when the other had also been through the same level of discomfort.
"Pneumonia?" Aubert managed to butter over the whine in his voice, but a hint of concern slipped through his efforts. Softly, he tapped his fingertips against the countertop, hoping Milo's ears weren't keen enough to detect the sound and then added, "I doubt it, I don't think I had enough exposure. It's probably just allergies."
As if queued by the theory, Aubert felt another violent sneeze buzzing up and quickly pinched his nose closed to quash it. He refused to allow his bodily functions to prevent him from utilizing this interaction as he had intended, and would suffer the consequences as long as he could retain some self mastery while in the blind man's presence. Curling his toes against the cold floor, he flinched as the other man spoke.
"So, Aubert, tell me a little about yourself. I would have asked you earlier, but it wasn't really the right time I guess. Give me the general run down."
Like a proper host, Milo had beaten him to casual interrogation and Aubert knew it would be too suspicious-- no, awkward to deflect the invitation to self-promote.
"Well, you already know my name," he said, eyes darting between the floor, furniture, and tenant as he weighed how little or great he should make the lies he wove in, "I'm afraid I'm not all that interesting. I come from a standard middle class family-- parent's are both dead," he focused on Milo's features, trying to detect any sparks of empathy or disapproval before continuing, "I've got an older brother but he's not really--" he stumbled, trying to think of a subtle way to vilify the imaginary sibling, "Present in my life. You know, the vacant, withdrawn, disinterested type."
A vignette of memories: his sisters' faces, his younger's malicious, sunny smiles, his father's eyes elsewhere, his mother's hands suctioned like toothy tentacles to his shoulder as he squirmed to get away. He shook them out of his focus, reminding himself to pinpoint the emotions they harbored and soak those into the facade.
"I'm afraid, I'm not all that interesting. I work at a clothing store, but I don't have a lot of hobbies. Er-- besides," he paused, a touch of red budding under his glasses, as he muttered, "Embroidery and needle work."
He coughed to mask the embarrassment further and then recovered with,
"But what about you? How is life for-- I mean, I can't even imagine getting on in Selene like you do. No offense."
Something cruel came over his expression and he closed his eyes for a moment. The darkness came in like a sour note or ill omen, and he opened them again quickly. The fabric of his ruined clothing clung to him like unwanted affections and he pinched a fold's worth of it between his thumb and forefinger and tried to pull the wet material away from his skin. It proved effortless though and he gave his distant, distorted reflection in the sitting area's window a defeated look.
"I suppose, if ti's not too much of a bother or burden, I wouldn't mind changing into something, er, drier. And, ah, I mean, I don't want to drip all over your apartment-- not that you mind the visual ramifications but, er, it might ruin the floor or something," he said hurriedly, trying to remain at least some what nonchalant and failing.
tagged: milo jones notes: this is shit but i've made you wait so long. -shame flips into hell-
Still feeling quite embarrassed by his fumbling with the kettle, Milo kept his eyes low while Aubert discussed his life and granted Milo with some information about himself. Dead parents, distant siblings, simple hobby, the guy didn't have much going for him. Though, Milo couldn't really talk, he was a blind man working for a rebellion group in the middle of a fight over territory and access to power. Aubert was probably in a much better state. Deciding to not think on it anymore, Milo walked back into the bedroom.
"But what about you? How is life for-- I mean, I can't even imagine getting on in Selene like you do. No offense."
Milo didn't answer right away, instead preoccupying himself with the task of finding Aubert some clothes to wear. All of the clothes he hadn't worn since the accident were piled gently in a hamper inside of his closet, something he had asked Haine to help him with after realising just how futile it was to dwell in resentment and embarrassment over his condition. Thinking about it now, as he searched for the feel of soft cotton, it might have been a childish thing to have done but it had six months since then and he didn't feel like undoing the process. Milo supposed that might be a signal of his process with healing. How depressing.
"I see.. I have no skill with fiddly things like that," he began, finally coming out of the bedroom to reach a hand out before him and find Aubert so he could hand him the clothes "I never had the patience for anything that didn't give me instant gratification. I doubt I'll ever learn braille because of it too."
Realising that his answer was not the one to the question Aubert had asked, but lazily circling around his earlier comments, Milo figured he should answer the other man. Jabbing his thumb toward the bedroom and walking toward the kettle again, Milo occupied his hands with the steam coming from the spout. "You can change in there, the bathroom is attached... and uh, I get on fine enough, as long as strangers don't mind me bothering them every now and again," taking a second to gesture toward where he assumed Aubert was still sitting, Milo smiled out into the dark, dizzying blackness "I'm still figuring out how to manoeuvre myself, this didn't happen so long ago, it's hard to adjust without one of your primary senses. Especially if you relied on being observant your entire life."
Tugging on the ripped collar of his t-shirt a little and moving to prepare the two cups of dark roasted coffee, Milo gave Aubert the opportunity to change and make himself comfortable. Leaving the tip of his finger along the edge of the mug, he poured until the scalding liquid burned his nail, his face schooled through the brief pain that signified he'd poured enough. Hoping Aubert wouldn't notice and mind too much, Milo couldn't help but feel slightly guilty about the action.
TAGGED: @umber NOTES: it's all good bru, i spent that time finding yet another post template
