#rainadragomir

[rain-a-dragomir]

🎀: Gift Given

@devrimsperch

“What a way to make a first impression. Do you introduce yourself like this to all your vanguardians?” Devrim teased, a playful tone to his upturned lips. “Thank you- again. It’s nice to meet you, Adrian.”

Devrim strode over to his hotplate, setting it up to heat some water for the both of them. “What brings you to my humble abode? Shouldn’t you be off in Crucible celebrating Crimson Days?” he asked, curious. Sure he had Guardians flit through here day in and day out, but it wasn’t often they had made the move to actually make nice with him. Many of them babied him, were parented by him, or just wanted to get their patrol duties done and get back to wherever or whatever they had been doing before.

He wondered what kind of tea Adrian would like, as he snuck a glance at the other to give him a quick once over. Squinting, he came to a decision- Ah, spiced chai. Obviously.

A soft warm chuckle escaped his lips as he smiled brightly, both at the thought that the older Rifleman had indeed seemed rather pleased with the introduction and gift; and the jest of getting to know the other Van-guardians much like their current manner. Another soft chuckle left his lips as he thought about trying to get to know someone like Asher Mir, while the man was unarguably brilliant, he had the social skills of a Thrall. “I’m fairly sure the likes of Asher Mir is far too busy in his research. Osiris is more than likely breaking something within the infinite forest, plus he has his. . . followers.” He deftly glossed over the word ‘Followers’ having met with them a few times before, it was usually best to quickly finish what business you had with them, then hightail it out. They were fairly fanatical about the man they put upon a pedestal, but once in a while they tend to give some decent insight.

Besides, there weren’t too many other’s he’d bother introducing himself to, even among the Vanguard faction. Many of the Guardian leaders that held posts upon planetary bodies were all busy fighting their own battles to even worry about lone guardians. Sloan was trying to keep the floating structures of Titan from sinking into the methane abyss, Ana was dealing with Rasputin. Much like them, the other’s were dealing with varying issues on their own planets. “Crimson days at the Crucible? Just not as much fun as racing a sparrow through dubious tracks.” He mused, his Ice colored hues seemingly sparkled at the mention of racing sparrows through the wilds, dodging an array of always changing obstacles and danger.

“Plusssss he got into trouble!” Came the melodic, singing filled the air around them, it’s tones continually shifting much like a wind chime in the breeze. Shifting out of the transmat zone, Jade lazily spun through the air, it’s Jadeite shell catching flecks of sun through the window. “Commander Baldy  was super mad we were away, exploring for so long. Far far away! He can stay mad though, I got to see the Ocean!” The chiming notes changed as the little ghost giggled while spinning in place, leaving her Guardian with a look of amusement painting his face.

“We may have gone further than what the Vanguard trio allowed. Zavala is. . .Zavala and I don’t quite see eye to eye, so to speak. He seems off put by what I’ve been trying to do for a bit now. After talking with Ikora, he sort of overheard what Jadeite and I were trying to accomplish, then he sort of put us on leave.” The man gave a light shrug of his shoulders, head cocked to one direction as he nuzzled the ghost that floated into the crook of his neck. Every twirl of Jadeite's shell tinkled against the few piercings he had up the edge of his ear.

“We got grounded. Not allowed to take part in guardian duties for a whole week. No flying off to other planets, or halfway around the world.” The little ghosts melodic chimes had gone low, it’s verdant shell drooping slightly.

“But we’ll be able to catch Holiday’s race later, so there is that.” He crooned. The thought of watching a sparrow race seemed to have perked her up now that she was pin wheeling through the air. “So since I don’t have any prior engagements to worry about, might as well take it easy and get to know some of the people that have been a big help during missions. Are you going to participate in the Crimson Crucible? Bet you’d make a few great shots in there.”

[rain-a-dragomir]

@sonofrusalka

Continued:

“Heh, I know. It’s an odd name. My parents were a bit. . . eccentric to say the least. They each gave my siblings and I somewhat uncommon names.” He mused aloud, letting his own flesh and bone fingers slide from the man’s grip. There had only been a moment of curiosity once it truly registered with him, that he couldn’t feel warmth of his skin. Or feel the beating pulse just beneath flesh. Only the strange smoothness that was of some kind of metallic / plastic, and the fact it wasn’t ice cold, nor warm. It wasn’t a sensation he was ultimately expecting, but as quickly as it had thrown him for a loop, it was shaken off. Rain smiled brightly, one of those genuine ones that reached a person’s eyes, as his sparkled in the dim lighting. “No need to apologize, I guess I had to make a fool of myself at some point. Though aside from that, it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam.”

Quietly he stood up for a brief second as his fingers fished for something deep within his pocket, only to pull out a small leather wallet. Sitting back down, making sure not to lean too far back upon the stool, he removed a small ebony card and placed it on the counter. While he still wasn’t entirely sure what the currency here was, nor could he quite remember the conversion rate. It was probably best to just let his bank take care of the issue, so once again drinks were on him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a literal statement. “A music festival? Here?” He responded to the question with another that seemed a bit obvious that One, he hadn’t a clue. Two, he was here for something else, other than music. “What kind of music? Hopefully it isn’t anything that these younger kids are listening to.” He mused more to himself than Adam at that point, his Ice colored hues taking in the man in his periphery.

Rain noted there was an air about the man, as if he held himself in a different manner than most of the patrons in the bar. Rigid, coiled, loaded. The man was relaxed, but seemed ready for just about anything. He was also quite sure that Adam was keeping a close eye on everything behind those mirrored lenses, including himself. If he were to guess, he might have pegged Adam for some sort of Law Enforcement, maybe something in the armed forces? Through his Ice colored hues, he surveyed Adam for a moment, taking in what little features were visible. The angular face, neatly trimmed facial hair, the black coma’s that framed his hidden eyes. He hadn’t felt anything in his gut that said stay away, to not trust the man next to him, much like it had earlier in the week when someone attempted to run him over; but that was another story entirely. “I’m just briefly visiting, getting lost. Had to take a break from work when I got word my family home had been broken into, and a few things had been nicked. Heirlooms and such. So I had to travel all the way up to Germany to take inventory.” He explained in short. With no question there was more to the story, like the items that were listed as missing, or why it would require him to take a seemingly long journey just to check it out. “Odds and ends. Family roster, a few old books and such.” He said shrugging his broad shoulders.

[rain-a-dragomir]

@sonofrusalka​   Continued:

Rain:

Had it all really been a trick of the light? Just the simple mood lighting in conjunction with the ghostly trails of smoke that drifted through the place? Seemed like a completely valid explanation as any. Or so he thought as Iced hues locked onto the Bartender’s back as the man worked in putting their drinks together. From his side of the bar he couldn’t be certain if the man had ill intent when fixing their drinks, only being able to see his ghostly silhouette thanks to the back-lit display of wall mounted bottles that added to the scant illumination in the bar. Granted no one here knew who he was, he simply was just another foreign face lost in a crowd of people. So long as he had money, no one would really bat an eye. Looking no different than those with robotic limbs, or those without. There wouldn’t be any reason for the Bartender to wish him harm, unless he skimped out on a tip, this slight revelation seemingly made the man decompress a bit, broad shoulders loosening up a little as his fingers wrapped around a small glass of amber colored liquid.

He offered his thanks towards the Bartender, unsure whether the man had understood English but it seemed as if enough meaning behind the spoken word transcended language barriers and the man nodded in return. His own glass was raised towards the man wearing the mirrored shades, something of which he found both strange, and slightly normal. Aside from the fact that he could practically feel the man’s weighty stare behind those lenses, watching him, observing, waiting. Well it wasn’t like the man in the lenses knew who he was either, slowly he brought the edge of the glass to his lips when he caught the man reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. Unsure of what to make of the situation until the man who had been on the verge of speaking finally stated he was on fire. “Uh, what?” Rain asked now genuinely confused. Half wondering whether or not this was going to be a running gag, or a new way to greet another person. At least until he could smell the scent of burning fabric, sharp, acrid, bold, against the smog of cigarette and cigar smoke that cloyed the senses.

Following the scent of burning fabric, he looked down both sets of arms. One arm was devoid of anything except the glass of Whisky he’d been holding, while the other was currently set aflame. Surprise momentarily flooded his senses as he leaned back to work himself out of his wool coat. Unfortunately the man had forgotten he was perched upon a barstool with no real back support,  the hand that held the Whisky flew up, dumping the contents upon himself and knocking him over in the process in a fantastic display of flailing limbs. The fantastic sound of his skull cracking against the aged wooden floor, and the glass clinking away across the floor into the shadows, leaving the man splayed like a murder victim; only very much alive. “Fuck, that hurt.” He croaked out in a raspy, deep voice as starbursts danced before his eyes in bright neon colors, forcing him to rapidly blink to get rid of them. As he laid upon the floor, mentally checking his body for any signs of bleeding, concussion, or other bodily injuries he might have suffered from his fall. Thankfully it didn’t seem like he’d be hurt other than a killer headache, and the fact that he appeared to mourn the loss of his favorite coat, and the Whisky he was now wearing.

“Thanks for trying to warn me, sadly I was just too deep in my own head.” He mused aloud, one hand rubbing the back of his head that must have smacked against the floor seconds earlier. Still sitting on the floor, he managed to shuk the coat off him to quickly survey the damage. The sleeve that seemed to have been put out was indeed charred, maybe salvageable, but his drink was now all over him. He wondered whether he’d end up sticky later if he hadn’t got back to his room soon. “I swear I’m not always uncoordinated.” He said, pushing himself up off the floor and lowering himself back on his stool that he flung himself from. Managing to deftly reach over the counter to grab the damp cloth the Bartender had been using to wipe everything down with, he wiped off his own hands, then peered at the fabric. It seemed reasonably clean, but that didn’t mean he was going to rub it across his face. With a sigh, he plopped it back onto the counter and extended a cleaner, less sticky hand towards the man with the mirrored lenses. “Again, thanks for the heads up. I’m Rain.” He introduced himself, Iced hues bright, even in the dim lighting.