" Now thats just bullshit. I haven't touched the hard stuff in...." Randy paused trying to remember the last time he touched anything other than weed and alcohol. " Well the wife and I did Molly.... Oh there's also the coke. Okay okay. I mostly smoke now though! I barely even drink and I was a raging alcoholic. I'm healthy! My dick still works. Sure might not be up for getting some pregnant but he still gets the job done." Randy just couldn't believe he was hearing a list of his diagnoses and how unhealthy he was.
Seeing Malcolm again after so many years had been what some would call a coincidence. John didn't see it that way. He saw it as the divine will of God; first as a test to his commitment to his mission, and then as a calling to make Malcolm his disciple. He had left breadcrumbs for Malcolm to follow, a test of his own to see if Malcolm was dedicated and once he knew that he was, John had moved onto the next steps of his plan.
Killing Malcolm would have been easy, too easy, and the voice that guided John told him Malcolm was meant for something more. John would have to move on from his personal mission; possibly forever, but something greater awaited him once Malcolm reached the end of his trial. John was sure of it.
Malcolm still had some fight in him. Good. John liked it that way, it showed him that this mission truly was righteous, and that showing Malcolm the path towards his own mission was the correct choice. It wasn't without its own challenges, John was also being tested in these trials. Malcolm was strong, he was resisting this journey he had been set on. Frustrating as it was, John was trying to see the positives; it just meant that once the trials were over, he wouldn't falter or back down from their mission at the first sign of trouble.
He wished Martin could see the metamorphosis his son was going through, he was sure his former mentor would be proud of the work he was doing. The fact that Malcolm would also pay penance for betraying and dishonoring his father was just an added bonus. For as it said in Deuteronomy; 'Cursed be anyone who dishonors his father or mother.'
Crouching before Malcolm, he pointed his knife at him; more as an extension of is own hand (and a warning against trying anything stupid) whilst he lifted up his shirt to check on the stab wound. All things considered, given he'd not had any medical treatment, it wasn't looking too bad. ❝ You know— ❞ Standing up, he stepped back a few paces and sheathed his knife, teeth showing in a condescending grin. ❝ Our Lord managed to go for forty days and nights in the desert without food or water. Those were his trials, so I'm sure you can last a while longer. ❞
He scratched his beard, wondering how long it would be before he would actually have to give Malcolm some water. He didn't want the boy to die before he'd completed his trials, and with the blood loss he's sustained, was still losing, that window of time had been reduced. He might not be a doctor, but he had learned a lot from Martin, so he had a good idea of the time pressures he was facing. ❝ The sooner you stop resisting, the sooner you can be rewarded. All this resistance is only hindering your progress. ❞
Billy took a sip of the hard cider and made a surprised face. " Hey that's actually pretty fucking good." He praised since it was Malcolms idea to come to this festival. He wrapped a flannel covered arm around him s boyfriend and kissed his temple. " So what should we do next? What about the haunted corn maze?" He grinned at the idea. " You can hold my hand if you get scared." He was teasing of course, pausing to take another drink. " Or we can go get some food and check out the vendors?"
they’re at each others’ throats. always. but this time he has the upper hand, fingers tight in his tunic. he doesn’t give him a chance to talk, to spit more venom. he only pushes in to kiss him hard, teeth in his lower lip.
"Wouldnt you just love to know." Billy teased in response. "I got it for you to try. Its supposed to not be as harsh and rub into that pretty skin of yours. Or if you really want it, you can use it to tie up your dads new girlfriend and get rid of her." He joked. "Im kidding. Dont get that thought into your head." He walked by him and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I need to run to the store. Want to go with me? We could swing by the sex store and pick out some fun new toys too." @finaldisorder
Zoe was a roller coaster mix of emotions. She was excited, nervous and anxious all at the same time. What if Martin didn't like her in person? Sure they wrote letters and talked all hours on the phone but in person was different. She made sure she looked perfect, her long hair was sleek and shiny, hanging down her back. She smelled like expensive warm perfume and vanilla cashmere lotion. She was dressed in a tight but not too short sweater dress, low cut just a bit in the chest. She walked in behind the guards and immediately lit up in a bright smile when she saw Martin.
He was even more handsome in person and she was fairly certain her racing heart beat could be heard through her chest. Everyone had been shocked that Martin was getting a visit from someone outside of family and to see it was a young model? Everyone was talking. Zoe couldn't care less though, she was there for Martin and him alone. " Oh my god." She blurted out, hand going to her chest. " Wow its so nice to actually see you!" She was sure she was blushing.
"They let me bring in some cookies. I hope you like double chocolate chip s'mores cookies." She put the tin she was holding down on the table. " Remember I told you I can ramble so you'll have to shut me up probably." She said quickly. " But like can I just say you're even more handsome in person but I'm sure you know that."
It was going on week two since Barry Seville had shown his face. The man was quiet and preferred to keep things close to the vest, but he wasn't irresponsible. The fact he hadn't phoned in even once proved to Ben that something was amiss -- Barry would have told him, had he decided to go chasing after a lead -- so after breaking into his partner's house and discovering it empty? Well...he'd done the only logical thing, and decided to open up an investigation of his own.
Upon further inspection, inside the front door by Barry's keyholder (conveniently missing the keys) was a bright red matchbox, sporting the R.ialto's logo in striking cursive letters. As a bit of a loner, Ben hadn't ever frequented such an establishment, but he'd certainly heard rumors. Barry had never struck him as the type... But in the world of h.omicide, he knew all too well how appearances could be deceiving.
With the matchbook weighing heavily within his palm, Ben entered the glitzy club and was immediately overwhelmed by cigar smoke, sultry jazz music, and the stench of promised debauchery. His shoulders instantly tensed, if only to make himself look smaller, unavailable, and wholly uninterested in whatever offer might be thrown his way.
Instead, he made a beeline towards a gentleman mixing drinks at the bar. "Excuse me," Ben said, sliding the matchbook onto the counter. "Does this belong to your establishment?"
The man lifted his dark, supercilious eyes and appraised him scornfully, the corner of his mouth quirking in bemusement. "You can read, can'tcha?" he asked, adding a bit of vermouth to his concoction. "The sign's out front."
Ben's smile grew tight. "Yes sir, I can read -- but times change. I want to know if this is a recent product of yours, and not a dated one."
The bartender harrumphed. "Yeah, it's recent." Mixing his drink with the shaker, he spared him an impatient look. "You want something or not? I've got plenty of patrons here, buddy."
Pursing his mouth, Ben reached inside his pocket, then slid a picture of Barry across the counter. "What about him?" he asked. "Did you see this man within the past two weeks?"
Cocking his head, the dark-haired man leaned forward and sniffed, then nodded once. "Uh-huh, sure did. Kind of a wise-ass, but he more or less kept to himself. Except for Sandie. He seemed pretty interested in talking to her."
Ben perked up at that. "Sandie?"
The bartender nodded. "All the guys like talking to her though," he clarified.
Trying not to appear too eager, Ben pressed, "And where can I find her? Is she working today?"
"Rain or shine," the man said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "She's the petite, pretty one -- the blonde -- over there in that booth. Though you'd better hurry, 'cause she's meeting a client."
After thanking the grumpy bartender for his help, Ben grabbed Barry's picture and made his way through the laughing, cigar-smoking patrons, his heart in his throat once he stopped directly in front of the woman -- this Sandie, who apparently had visited with his friend. Despite his distaste towards venues of this nature, Ben couldn't deny that the blonde had quite ethereal, striking eyes...large, dark, fathomless. It wasn't a far leap to assume his partner had briefly lost his head in a place like this.
"Um...hello," he stammered.
Brilliant.
He was already off to a rousingly good start. With a wince, he went ahead and slid into the seat across from her, his hands clumsily depositing Barry's photograph onto the table. "Your friend back there said you met with Barry Seville," Ben began, finally anchoring a bit of command to his voice. "I'm leading the investigation into his disappearance. Would you mind if we spoke for a few minutes?"
