RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[midvalley]

NEW OPEN RP POST

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AUception

[redoubling]

[ There is an assassin known as Myriad.

It's not a name he chose for himself. Some of his peers are a tad more poetic than others, more dramatic than others, and while he would have preferred to remain unnamed, his exploits had earned him some level of infamy. He was so very, very careful to leave no witnesses alive, but he did miss the occasional camera here and there -- security footage, or some last ditch effort on the part of his victims to earn themselves justice through candid filming. Not that it would do them any good, since he wore a different face, sometimes even a different body, on each assignment.

This meant that the footage of his work reached certain hands, were viewed by certain eyes, and the name Myriad floated among the circles that mattered. Over the decades, he earned himself some freedom in choosing his clientele. The jobs came to him, rather than the other way around. He was given "first dibs," as it were, and had earned himself a reputation for his trustworthiness, his professionalism. Refuse or accept, he always had his reasons for doing what he did -- though he rarely divulged them, at the time; those who attempted to cross him received no mercy, and so his reputation for brutality grew, as well. It meant that clients contacted him with a healthy dose of caution.

When he's called in to eliminate one Charles Oliver Maxwell III, he does not bat an eye.

Myriad had left his home system quite some time ago. He was a younger man, then, more inclined to think with his heart than his head, and disagreements with his parents -- regarding his habits, his lifestyle, his dalliances with other men -- had driven him away. They had tracked him down, of course, had confronted him in the evening in some modest apartment with a cadre of thugs and demanded he return home to fulfill his duty as their sole heir. He refused and drove home his refusal via a long, metal blade that burst its way through their chests.

There's a twinge of familiarity as he looks over the Maxwell file. A young man after his own heart, he assumes. Someone who abandoned his home in hopes of finding himself, escaping the pressures of his family and kin. A shame someone wanted the young man dead. Myriad turns down the contract, in the end, and while the client's representative had frowned in disappointment, he had the good sense to not ask why, or to attempt to convince him otherwise. They say their goodbyes, and Myriad takes his leave.

This does not, however, stop him from tracking down the Maxwell boy. This does not stop him from finding him on a planet on the outskirts of their home system. This does not stop him from following the young man, and keeping a watchful eye on him.

Myriad, for reasons that are solely his own, takes a liking to the younger man.

He watches from a rooftop nearby when a hitman finally arrives at Charlie's apartment, the man slipping in through the windowsill. Moderately skilled, Myriad thinks, as the assassin slinks toward Charlie's sleeping form, and he manages to surprise the young man with a slash across his chest. After that, the fight devolves into a mess, with the Mover throwing what few things decorated his apartment at his assailant. Myriad tuts disapprovingly when it's over, and the would-be assassin is reduced to a bleeding heap on the floor. Sloppy work, he thinks. But then again, Myriad had expected very little when he had hired the man to attack Charlie. The Changer had been so very curious to see how the Mover would react -- and he had performed beautifully, for an amateur.

It's his turn, then, to slip into Charlie's apartment, and the young man is losing a battle against unconsciousness. He doesn't resist when Myriad rips apart his sheets to stem his bleeding, when he flicks a hand to send copies of himself to collect Charlie's sparse belongings, and by the time the makeshift bandages are in place, Charlie succumbs to pain and blood loss. Which makes it all the easier to transport the young man to Myriad's ship.

They leave the planet behind, and Myriad sits beside Charlie's bedside, observing him. Whenever the younger man begins to rouse, he gentles his voice, placing a hand lightly on Charlie's shoulder. ]

Try not to move. You've been badly injured.

Myriad you son of a bitch

[animated]

[ Charlie must be having a nightmare. That's the only way to explain the last few hours of his life. The killer in his bedroom, the way he had to fight for his life. The man- or was it men?- who had suddenly appeared to bandage him up.

Despite what Myriad says, the unfamiliar voice makes Charlie snap into wakefulness, makes him sit bolt upright, or at least try to, but there's a hand on his shoulder and a sharp pain in his side that makes him flop back down with a gasp. ]

Where am I? Who are you?

ilu2

[redoubling]

I did warn you.

[ He says it with the hint of a smile, something caught between amused and sympathetic, and he removes his hands to pour a glass of water from a pitcher on the nightstand. ]

You're on my ship. You're safe here, I promise you that.

[ He offers the glass to Charlie. ]

Drink this. Be very careful about sitting up.

[animated]

[ Charlie is inclined to trust this guy... well, not as far as he can throw him, because he is a Mover and that's actually pretty far, but he's not inclined to trust him at all. He eyes the glass warily, and makes no move to grab it ]

Where are we going?

[redoubling]

I have an acquaintance who is an accomplished healer.

[ He tilts his head slightly, and he takes a drink from the glass himself. That he doesn't collapse from poisoning is likely a good sign. ]

I understand your wariness, but I have no intention of hurting you. If I had, I would have had ample opportunity before you awoke.

[ He holds the glass out again, pointedly. ]

You ought to drink. You lost quite a bit of blood.

[animated]

[ Charlie gives the glass another long look before very carefully easing himself up enough to take it and take a drink.

He must be more thirsty than he thought, because he drains the glass quickly. ]

... What happened?

[redoubling]

[ He takes back the glass, pouring more water from the pitcher, and presses it back into Charlie's hand. ]

I was hoping you could tell me, honestly.

I heard the commotion from the ground floor. By the time I followed the noise and climbed the fire escape to your apartment, there was a man dead, and you were bleeding quite heavily.

[animated]

[ he stops in mid-drink, eyeing Myriad over the top of the glass ]

And your first inclination wasn't to call the authorities?

[redoubling]

[ He hesitates, shifting slightly in his seat. ]

... Considering I had just finished robbing an apartment on the first floor, no, it wasn't.

[animated]

So your first inclination was kidnapping instead.

[redoubling]

[ He lowers his head slightly, gaze wandering off to one side. ]

I apologize. I thought it best not to leave you behind, considering the state you were -- are -- in.

[animated]

The fact that you just picked me up and took me away after an assassin broke into my apartment doesn't exactly scream "trustworthy".

[redoubling]

[ He nods once. ]

I don't blame you in the slightest, considering the night you've had. We can part ways after my acquaintance has seen to your injuries.

[animated]

Are your friends gonna be okay with that? [ because he's pretty sure he remembers more than one person in his apartment ]

HOVER MENUS

[redoubling]

Friends?

[ His brow wrinkles in confusion before his expression smooths out into something amused. ]

Ah, no. It's just me, actually. Those were copies of myself. Back in my home system, I'm what they would have colloquially called a Changer. Powers of illusion, ability to alter matter, things of that nature.

TURN THAT SHIT OFF

[animated]

[ That is the moment where Charlie well and truly panics, because who else would his father send to bring him home but a fellow Changer?

Charlie's eyes flare bright blue and he shoves the man in front of him against the nearest wall ]

Tell me the truth! Where are we going?

u can't tell me what to do ur not my real dad

[redoubling]

[ The air from his lungs escapes in one breath as he slams against the bulkhead, and a part of him commends Charlie for how easily he taps into his abilities.

Another part of him twists, something icy and filled raged, and thinks, How dare he?

But Myriad swallows his anger, looks Charlie directly in the eye; he at least forces himself to look nervous. ]

To see a healer, as I said. An acquaintance I met during the course of my work.

You need to calm down. You're going to aggravate your injuries.

[animated]

Give me one reason I should trust you. I won't go back there, I won't!

[redoubling]

Back where? I have no clue what you're talking about.

[animated]

Back home! I'm not an idiot, I know what a Changer is.

[redoubling]

Evidently.

[ he licks his lips. ]

I haven't been home in a long, long time, and I have no intention of returning, either.

[animated]

[ Charlie continues to glare, eyes blazing.

Of course, if this man knew who Charlie was, knew what he was, he wouldn't have mentioned being a Changer at all. It would have been the easier route. Also, if his parents had hired him to bring Charlie home, then who hired the assassin? It was almost easier to believe his family wanted him dead rather than to return.

At last, the fight drains from him, and the light in his eyes dims. ] I'm sorry.

[redoubling]

[ He breathes a sigh of relief when he feels the pressure holding him against the bulkhead disappears, but he stays tense, alert. Apparently Charlie had come to his own conclusions, for which he was glad. ]

I take it you're a Mover.

[ Although he knew that already. No need to let the ignorant front drop. ]

I'm not going to ask what your circumstances are, but for my part, I left our system a long time ago. Several decades by now, actually. I understand better than anyone the need to escape that place, and so long as you're with me, no one will force you to return.

[ He takes a wary step forward. ]

I am not asking for absolute trust. Given what seems to have happened to you tonight, I understand your caution. But I ask you to at least trust me until after your injuries have been seen to.

[animated]

[ What are the chances? He thinks. What are the fucking chances that he’d run into another runaway?? Something suspiciously like hope starts to poke its head up, and Charlie does his best to stomp it back down. It’s something of a losing battle, however. He’s been alone for so long, and he thought for sure he’d be alone out in the universe too, but against all odds, someone happens to find him who knows what it’s like in that place. Who knows what it’s like to want out.

And who has managed running away a whole lot better than Charlie has.

The Mover relaxes by degrees. Even if he was still suspicious- and a part of him keeps nagging that he ought to be, though Charlie doesn’t pay it much mind- he’s much too tired to do much about it. ]

I’m Charlie. [ It’s a start. An admission of some small sort of trust. ]

[redoubling]

Charlie.

[ He repeats it with a small, thankful smile. ]

I'm known as Myriad, now. [ He holds up a hand as if to stave off any teasing remarks. ] A little on the nose, I know, but it seems to have stuck.