Roots, Apologies, and Light || Waylon, Rosmond, and Callum
Waylon: Waylon sighed and stretched, raising his arms over his head as if reaching for the ceiling. "Thanks again," Waylon huffed as his arms flopped back down to his sides, and he leaned back against the arm of the couch, "for letting me sleep on your couch again. I appreciate it." Waylon smiled warmly at his generous host, and toed at Callum's thigh playfully, who sat on the other end of the couch.
Callum: Callum smiled over at Waylon. "No problem, mate. I'd give you the guest room but I'm experimentin' with a new variety o' rose and I've run out o' room in my greenhouses."
Waylon: "It's seriously not a problem, I've slept on much less comfy surfaces than couches, so this is like heaven in comparison." Waylon glanced around and slid down so his head rested against the arm rest. "How long have you had this shop?"
Callum: "I'm glad ye're comfortable." Callum squinted as he ran through some calculations in his head. "I've had it...a wee bit less than ten years."
Waylon: "Why this place- of all towns to open up a shop? I've been thinking about staying here..." Waylon said softly, almost like he was trying to ask himself why he wanted to stay here.
Callum: “Short answer? My gut told me to. I saw this house and it pulled at me, so I bought it. And once I moved here, I got a chance to make my shop dream come true." Callum gave Waylon a surprised look. "Ye're thinkin' about stayin'?"
Waylon: "Yeah..." Waylon rubbed at the back of his neck. "I've just... I've been wandering for a long time. I have this feeling like it's time to settle for a bit- in my gut. Try and make some friends. Or something like that. I'm still not sure what I want..." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just pulled by this town. And the people in it." He looked pointedly at Callum, as he was included in the little list of people Waylon had started to build up.
Callum: Callum smiled and reached over to give Waylon's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Then listen to it. Put down some roots. If this town is pullin' at you, there's a reason. My reason was my house and my shop. Yer reason could be anythin' you want it to be."
Waylon: Waylon smiled back at Callum with a hint of uncertainty, but Callum's words did make him feel a little better. "I guess it wouldn't hurt.... I've been wandering around for a while, it'd be nice to just relax for a bit you know? Make a home somewhere..."
Callum: Callum nodded. "You don't have to move here right away. It's a big step; you should begin it with baby steps. There are always places for rent around here, and I know for a fact you don't have to sign a contract with a few of them."
Rosmond: Rosmond stood in the middle of the fresh cut yard, enjoying the scent despite what it reminded him of. He had a love-hate relationship with many a plant life. Anything close to toiled earth reminded him of himself and of what brought him to this point, shuffling to the door in preparation for an apology. Hearing multiple voices on the other side caused hesitation. He bit the flesh of his lip. What would Callum think of him after everything that had happened?
Waylon: "Could you give me any of the information of those places- or just point me in the right direction? I could go check those out tomorrow, see if I can swing the price and if any of 'em feel... right."
Waylon: Waylon paused after that as a familiar presence sparked the edges of his consciousness. He focused on the presence, exhaling softly as he grounded himself and let his mind search the area around them, specifically the sense of a being somewhere outside of Callum's apartment. "I think you have a visitor..." he said softly as he looked toward the door. It felt like... no, it couldn't be who he thought it was- right? His powers weren't honed enough to tell exactly who it was, it was more like looking at a blurry photograph and guessing, so he aired on the more likely sense that This wasn't Rosmond, just someone who felt similar to him.
Callum: "I think I might have the numbers of a few people," he said after a moment, getting up to go search in his desk drawer. "If I can't find them I'll tell you where they live and you can head over there first chance you get." He glanced toward the nearest porch-facing window at Waylon's comment, but the poor angle didn't allow him to see who it was. There was pleased surprise written all over his face when he opened the door and saw his guest. "Hello, Rosmond."
Rosmond: He was expecting shouting, perhaps even a slap to the face, despite how they had last departed. The truth was he had murdered Callum's livelihood and barely apologized. Saying that he appreciated flowers didn't count in his book. His eyes fell to the porch. "Mr. MacGillivray."
Waylon: "That'd be awesome," Waylon nodded appreciatively, and he watched Callum go in search of the numbers until he sensed Callum's guest. Then he watched as Callum opened the door, said the name Waylon hadn't been expecting, and Rosmond's voice followed. With his brow knit in confusion Waylon slowly slid from his seat on the couch to stand a short distance behind Callum and catch sight of the man who had just disappeared from Waylon's early introduction to his town. He wasn't sure how to feel- hurt, confused, or neither seeing as they'd gone on one date. He had no reason to be upset right? So Waylon kept the emotions outside of confusion hidden. He wanted to ask why Rosmond stood him up on their second date, but then again, Rosmond didn't come here to see Waylon either. Instead of saying anything Waylon moved back to take his place on the couch, hoping he didn't appear rude to Callum.
Callum: Callum had hoped that the regime change of sorts would boost Rosmond's confidence a little, and he couldn't help but feel a bit sad that it hadn't yet. Rosmond still looked like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. "Come on in," he said, stepping aside so the ghoul could enter. If he thought any part of Waylon's behavior rude or strange, there was no sign of it. "Rosmond, this is Waylon. Waylon, Rosmond. And Prospero," he added as his fluffy white Persian appeared from under the couch to stand expectantly in front of the newcomer.
Rosmond: If Callum wanted to see some life in those old bones, it was given the moment he was invited inside. He shook his head, taking a step back, a glance given to Callum's other guest. "No," he said softly. "I...I can't. I wanted to speak with you about something...important. Please?"
Waylon: Waylon nodded to Rosmond, and his eyes followed the guest until the cat appeared. He waited until the cat's attention would stray from Rosmond, where Waylon would then try to attract Prospero's attention to give it pets.
Callum: He could almost hear his heart crack. "Of course," said Callum, smiling kindly at Rosmond before glancing back at Waylon. "I won't be long. Prospero, keep Waylon company. There's a good lad." While Callum led Rosmond toward the chairs on the porch, Prospero took his owner at his word and went to Waylon, giving him a little headbutt in greeting.
Callum: "What would you like to talk about, Rosmond?"
Rosmond: "I know that you're aware of what's happened recently. I am...trying...to change. After so long, it's difficult. I need something...from you. I need...a denouement that I can agree with. My life...is an accumulation of...orders, of...punishment. I...need closure with you, Mr. MacGillivray."
Waylon: Waylon watched the two leave, and when Prospero's head bumped against his leg Waylon picked him up and placed him in his lap. There Waylon pet Prospero and waited for the two to return.
Callum: Perhaps there was a small flicker of hope after all. "I can understand that, but I need you to understand that I don't hold you ultimately responsible for the incident at my shop. I know it hurt you to do it and I know that you never would have done it had that been an option for you." "But I also know--or rather suspect--that my lack o' blame isn't goin' to be enough for you. Is that right?"
Rosmond: The ghoul paused, allowing the moment time to simmer. He needed to prepare himself for what he was sure would be rejection. "I need...for you to slap me, Mr. MacGillivray. Something honest...something that will sting. I need...I need this." His eyes shifted from floor to ceiling, avoiding eye contact.
Callum: "Rosmond..." Callum heaved a long sigh. "I'm sorry, I can't. I hardly ever let myself give in to anger and when I do, the worst that happens is usually a storm. I know I threatened to electrocute you in the verra recent past, but that was different. My anger there wasn't really directed at you, it was directed at.../her/. And since that isn't a problem anymore..." He sighed again. "I can't give you what you say you need, I'm sorry."
Rosmond: He expected this, and despite his expectation he still succumbed to disappointment, even anguish. He was given a new life, but how could he begin anew if still he had dirt on his hands? He would ruin the new with the old, with his... "I ask for so little."
Callum: In the grand scheme, he did, and that's what made it so hard for Callum to say no. But he just wouldn't be able to live with himself if after all that had happened, he caused poor Rosmond any more pain. Still... "...Could I...would you be appeased if I punched you instead? I kind of wanted to for about twenty minutes when I was cleanin' up my shop after you left, so...it would be honest."
Rosmond: Wasn't a punch more brutal than a slap? It was. Why the sudden change of heart? If he asked, it was likely Callum would change his mind, and so he decided against it. “Shall I kneel, or remain seated, Mr. MacGillivray?"
Callum: Call him a caveman, but in Callum's world the proper way to settle a dispute between friends or siblings--if one was not inclined to reasonable discussion--was with an old fashioned punch to the jaw. Rosmond may not have been his sibling, but Callum hoped that granting him this would clear the air between them and start them on the road to better things. "Neither. I'd like you to stand, Rosmond."
Rosmond: "Yes sir," he replied, taking to his feet. He was only an inch taller than Callum, but he felt the height difference as he stood at attention, as he always had, with his shoulders back and chin up. There was a sense of pride in his stance, despite his inner turmoil.
Callum: Callum stood as well, taking a deep breath to bolster himself. He couldn't remember ever wanting to punch someone less than he did right now. "Wait. If I do this, it's the end of it, right? We move past the incident, we shut the door on it and never open it again."
Rosmond: "Yes sir. By your will."
Callum: "By both our wills. It's a brave new world, mate."
Rosmond: "I'm...learning that, sir."
Callum: "Callum."
Rosmond: "You will be Callum after we finish this."
Callum: Another deep breath. "Okay." It took more effort than he thought possible, but after searching the very depths of his being Callum managed to scrounge up enough residual anger over everything that had happened to fuel a single decent punch. Only he wasn't thinking of Rosmond as his fist connected with the ghoul's jaw. He was thinking of Victoria and her blasted husband, of everything they'd done, everything they could've done, and everything they would've done had Gertrude not put a stop to all the madness.
Rosmond: The words followed just moments after licking his bottom lip, after snapping his jaw back in place with a magic Callum would never master having lived a life free of vampiric blood. "That wasn't your best."
Callum: Difficult situation or not, the Druid in him was impressed by how quickly and easily Rosmond set his jaw to rights. "It's all I've got mate. This is the first time I've punched someone since my cousin talked me into givin' a drunken serenade to a boy I liked."
Rosmond: "We'll have to work on that."
Callum: "Aw hell, are you goin' to make me do it again?"
Rosmond: "If not today...then someday." For the first time, the ghoul gave what could be considered a warm smile.
Callum: Callum returned it. "Let's leave it for someday. Who knows, one day you might talk me into a drunken serenade."
Rosmond: "I...still have one more problem I am not sure I can solve. That man in your house...I have wronged him, too."
Callum: He blinked in surprise. "You know Waylon? Can I ask what happened between the two of you?"
Rosmond: "I...I - We went on a date...to hear music...and it was..." He had no words to describe how beautiful. He swallowed instead. "But Madam Vic - Victora found out...and...I haven't seen him in weeks. I think it's been more than that."
Callum: For Christ's sake. Was there any budding relationship in a hundred mile radius that blight of a woman hadn't tried to ruin? "Rosmond...I know you can't exactly tell him the whole story, but I think you can explain enough to apologize. Waylon's a decent man. I'm sure he'll understand that there were circumstances beyond yer control."
Rosmond: "I don't know where to even begin."
Callum: Callum nodded toward the door. "How about goin' inside?"
Rosmond: He began to worry his lip.
Callum: "You won't be alone. I'll be there if you want me to be."
Rosmond: "I think...he should...decide if he wants to see me first."
Callum: "Want me go see?"
Rosmond: "Please."
Callum: "I'll be back in a wee." Callum walked back into the house, smiling when he saw Prospero sprawled on Waylon's lap and purring like a little motorboat. "Waylon? Rosmond told me a bit o' what happened between the two o' you."
Waylon: Waylon looked up at Callum as he entered and gave a half-hearted smile. "He did?" he asked idly, as if he wanted to ask more but was waiting for Callum to continue.
Callum: "Aye. He's standin' out there, waitin' for me to tell him whether or no' ye're willin' to hear him out."
Waylon: Waylon waited a beat before he nodded. "Sure, I'd like to hear what he has to say."
Rosmond: Rosmond waited patiently outside on the step.
Callum: Callum nodded and poked his head out the door. "Come on in, mate."
Waylon: Waylon waited anxiously for Rosmond to join them, and his fingers scratched under the chin of the cat in his lap.
Rosmond: Rosmond stood in the foyer, hands at is side, standing in his usual militant stance, barely at ease. "Hello...Waylon..."
Callum: Callum remained standing in the doorway, staying close at hand in case someone needed reassurance but perfectly poised to make himself scarce should the conversation veer toward the personal.
Waylon: "Hey Rosmond...it's been a while..." Waylon said softly, and he gave Rosmond and equally half-hearted smile.
Rosmond: "I...have missed your company, Waylon. I'm...I'm sorry for having been absent, for having stood you up. I...it was beyond my control." The more he spoke, the more ridged his body became.
Waylon: Waylon stared at Rosmond for a moment, his look contemplative. "....I missed your company too...." Waylon replied, his expression finally revealing the concern he'd had for Rosmond, and the hurt from thinking Rosmond had simply not wanted to see him again after all. "I waited in that spot each Wednesday, hoping it was a fluke- that something else held you for one of your days off and that you'd show up at the next. You were one of the first people I met while here...."
Rosmond: And now his shoulders began to sag. "Every...Wednesday?"
Waylon: "I... I was free Wednesdays usually..." Waylon reached up with his free hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He tried to make it sound like it wasn't that big of a deal, that he hadn't gone out of his way to hope Rosmond would return. He did, but he didn't want Rosmond to feel bad for whatever kept him from showing up. He was here now right? Rosmond seemed to enjoy their date and interactions, so there had to have been a reason why he didn't show up. "What kept you?"
Rosmond: "I was delayed by...an...abusive relationship with someone else. She's...but she's gone now, Waylon. I'm no longer in her debt, I'm no longer tied to...to anyone like that again. I...I..." He was beginning to lose his nerve.
Waylon: Waylon's brow furrowed. He had so many questions to ask, but Rosmond seemed so stiff and uncomfortable that getting upset would only push Rosmond away. Waylon could be cool and collected, at least he hoped so. "I... I won't ask for details... you don't have to talk about it..." Waylon assured him, although a part of him wanted to ask for more of an explanation. "I'm just... I'm glad you're safe... I'm glad she's gone- if that's what she was- if she was abusing you...." Waylon bit his lip and glanced down at the ball of fur in his lap. "You don't have to stand so far away you know..." it was a subtle way to say 'come sit by me I don't want you to leave' and Waylon wasn't sure he'd get the hint.
Callum: Callum smiled at Rosmond, nodding toward the spot beside Waylon in silent encouragement.
Rosmond: For a moment, the ghoul looked to the druid, for permission to move, for questioning whether or not he had done the right thing, said everything the way he was supposed to. His adam's apple disappeared with yet another swallow before he inched forward in that way Waylon would probably remember, that manner in which he leaned as though to ask for permission to do something. "I'd like to sit closer..."
Waylon: Waylon watched, and he wondered just what that woman had done to Rosmond to make him act so. "I'd like that too..." he agreed.
Rosmond: After everything that had happened, he was still surprised to have been invited inside Callum MacGillivray's home. It was warm and inviting and he felt undeserving, despite having squared away their relationship. Slowly, he took a seat beside the witch, reaching to scratch behind the persian's ear.
Waylon: "....I want to ask a million things..." Waylon confessed as he watched Rosmond interact with the cat. "But I guess.... I guess what I want to ask the most is, did you want to go on that second date with me?" Waylon looked up at Rosmond, his eyes searching as he waited for an answer.
Rosmond: "I very much wanted to go on another date with you. Many dates, Waylon."
Waylon: That soothed some of the turmoil and worry that had eaten at the corners of Waylon's mind for the past... had it been months? Slowly Waylon leaned down and leaned his forehead on Rosmond's shoulder, like he'd done on their date. "Any chance you'd still want to?"
Rosmond: Oh he missed that. Another glance was given in the host's direction, worried that this was too much public affection, but he couldn't deny this witch. He leaned in and rested his head against Waylon's. "Yes, please."
Waylon: Waylon's shoulders sagged as relief washed over them, and he bit his lip in an attempt to hide the warm smile that followed the swell of happiness in his chest. "Okay. Although this time, you choose the date activity."
Rosmond: "If that's what you want. I promise I won't miss it."
Waylon: "I'm going to hold you to that." He was going to make a joke about not sparking the wrath of a witch, but if Rosmond had been abused, that wasn't the type of joke he should be making.
Callum: Callum just continued to smile, happy that whatever badness had been lingering between Rosmond and Waylon had been cleared. They both deserved good things in their lives. For his part, Prospero was only too delighted to be given so much affection. He shifted so he was sprawled half in Waylon's lap and half in Rosmond's in hopes of getting twice the pets.
Rosmond: Rosmond enjoyed the silence, giving Prospero what he wanted. He reminded him of Ebb. He had been suspicious of black cats most of his life, but he couldn't help but adore Charon's pet. What misfortune could come from a brachycephalic face? "Thank you for letting me in," he said to both, for two different reasons.
Waylon: Waylon sensed that it was aimed at both Callum and himself, so he nodded against Rosmond's shoulder. "Thanks for coming back."
Callum: Flicker of hope officially restored. "Ye're welcome, mate."
Waylon: "Do you have to be anywhere?" Waylon asked, and he pulled back a little to look at Rosmond. His hand continued to give Prospero the pets he desired.
Rosmond: "I...I don't. I can have any day off I desire...now..."
Waylon: "Then when would you like to go on that date?"
Rosmond: He seemed struck, like a wild animal in headlights. A decision on his own. What was he capable of right now? "Um...I...well... When would you like...to um...?"
Waylon: Waylon watched him stumble over the question with that animal in headlights look, and he carefully reached over with his free hand to squeeze Rosmond's. "You said you were off any day you like, so no pressure, when would /you/ like to go on a date with me?" he asked again, slowly with an encouraging smile on his lips.
Rosmond: "I'm...not myself still. I don't want to be a poor version of myself..."
Waylon: "What do you mean?" Waylon asked softly, "I don't quite understand."
Rosmond: "I'm still...um..." Though he wanted to look to Callum for help, he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere but their hands.
Callum: "Now that he's out o' that relationship he's been...gettin' to know himself again," Callum supplied helpfully. "It's a work in progress."
Waylon: "Okay..." Waylon nodded a little and glanced between Rosmond and Callum. "Then for now I'll pick. Are you free tomorrow night?"
Rosmond: "Yes," he said a bit too quickly.
Waylon: "Perfect, want to meet at our spot? Will you be okay choosing the activities, or would you like me to?"
Rosmond: "I don't know what's new in town."
Waylon: "Any places that you liked to visit on your days off?"
Rosmond: These were so many questions in one setting. It was beginning to overwhelm him. "I...would just walk. Wherever music played, that's where I wanted to be."
Callum: Callum cleared his throat. "Could I make a suggestion?"
Rosmond: Again, Rosmond looked to Callum for help.
Callum: "If you want to listen to music you could come by Pete's bar. I play there ev'ry Friday and Saturday if you'll recall, Rosmond."
Rosmond: He looked to Waylon. "Would you like that?"
Waylon: "I would love that," Waylon nodded.
Rosmond: "Then...Friday. It's a date."
Waylon: A smile found Waylon's lips and he nodded in agreement. "It's a date. I look forward to it."
Callum: "Excellent well. And since the two o' you are my friends, Pete'll let you drink on the house."
Waylon: "Sounds good to me. I'll need what money I can save for whatever apartment I like."
Rosmond: "You're going to stay?"
Waylon: "I've been thinking about it. Just before you knocked actually, Callum was offering to get me some numbers of places that I could look into..."
Callum: "Oh! Speakin' of." Callum made his way back over to his desk to resume his search.
Rosmond: "I thought you were a wanderer."
Waylon: "I am... but I guess there might be a few things pulling me to stay here for a bit longer," he glanced at Rosmond and then down at the cat between them.
Rosmond: The hint was lost to Rosmond.
Callum: Callum cast a subtle glance over to Waylon, giving him a look that seemed to say 'be more obvious'.
Waylon: "You- Rosmond. One of the reasons I want to stay...." he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked sheepishly up at Rosmond, "is you."
Rosmond: The ghoul found himself at a loss for words. He looked to Callum - a go-to habit - and sighed. "But you don't know - I mean...I only want you to stay when you know...if you want to...everything about me. I want you to stay...but I'm not...normal."
Waylon: "You've met me, I'm not normal," Waylon laughed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "If it makes you feel better, it's not /just/ you. This town started to draw me in when I came here... you just sort of accidentally became a reason for wanting to stay. For wanting to get to know you."
Rosmond: Rosmond reached for Waylon's cheek, wanting to feel the heat for himself.
Waylon: It was difficult for Waylon to resist the urge to pull away and break eye contact when Rosmond reached for his cheek. But he didn't, and instead he gave Rosmond a small smile. "So... yeah."
Rosmond: "I've never been so happy to be an accident," he said, offering one of his awkward smiles.
Waylon: That earned a laugh from Waylon, and he leaned into Rosmond's hand. "I'm happy about it too, believe me."
Callum: It was probably a good thing his back was to them, because Callum was grinning like a loon. Situations like these were gold to a born romantic.
Rosmond: Rosmond's lopsided smile slowly died as he looked to Callum's back, feeling self-conscious.
Waylon: Waylon reached up and cupped Rosmond's cheek, and he gently guided Rosmond's gaze back to him. "You alright?" He asked, catching Rosmond's gaze.
Waylon: *Rosmond's eyes with his own.
Rosmond: "Yes...I'm...I'm fine."
Callu: With no way to excuse himself delicately, Callum just cleared his throat quietly and moved over to hand Waylon a piece of paper with five numbers on it. "Here you are, mate."
Rosmond: Immediately the ghoul straightened. He wanted to respect Callum's house, but he was putty in Waylon's hands.
Waylon: "Thanks Callum," Waylon dropped his hand to take the numbers, and he shoved them into his pocket.
Callum: "No problem. Let me know if you can't get in touch with any o' them and I'll point you in the right direction." With that--and a smile--he excused himself to the kitchen.
Rosmond: There was a long pause from the ghoul as he waited for the druid to return. It took only a few seconds of waiting before he turned to the witch and cupped his face, giving a kiss - and missing his lips - to his nose. To make it seem on purpose, he followed up with a few to his cheek.
Waylon: Waylon blinked when Rosmond suddenly cupped his face, and he expected a kiss to the lips. When it didn't come he giggled, his cheeks warmed, and he cherished the little kisses to his cheek. Then it was his turn to cup Rosmond's face, and he glanced at Rosmond's lips. "Can I kiss you? On the lips?" Waylon asked, wanting to make sure Rosmond wasn't avoiding his lips for a reason.
Rosmond: A pause. He blinked. "You...may if you want..." He offered his crooked smile. "You don't have to ask."
Waylon: Waylon like that smile, and it widened his own as he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against Rosmond's. "I'll keep that in mind," Waylon murmured against Rosmond's lips before kissing him a second time.
Rosmond: His nose brushed against Waylon's, smile warming and forever idiosyncratic. When he did finally speak, it was after leaning away enough to look at the witch and to lick his lips. "I think our host is hiding from us."
Waylon: "I think I'm supposed to feel rude about that, right?" Waylon asked, and he glanced down at Rosmond's lips again. A warm tingle still remained despite their lips being parted, and he bit his lower lip.
Rosmond: "Offended? I think so."
Waylon: "You'd like someone to watch us kiss?" Waylon asked as a cheeky smile eased over his lips.
Rosmond: And now the ghoul was struck dumb.
Waylon: "I'm teasing- I'm teasing!" Waylon laughed, and he leaned over to kiss Rosmond's nose. "Shall we invite our host back? We could just cuddle until you have to leave?"
Rosmond: "Mm...perhaps...both?"
Waylon: "Sounds like a plan," Waylon smiled and he glanced around. "How would you like to cuddle? We'll have to move the cat with us obviously, he obviously needs the pets." He chuckles and looks down at the fur ball still purring comfortably.
Callum: Callum wasn't hiding so much as making himself scarce. While Rosmond and Waylon canoodled in the living room in their own unique way, he was being a good host and making some tea and arranging some shortbread cookies on a plate. The MacGillivray were nothing if not fussers.
Rosmond: How to cuddle? As though he had ever done such a thing. Remaining taciturn, he looked around the room - another glance given to the kitchen - and settled for leaning back on the couch, pulling Waylon back-to-chest against him, arms draped gingerly around him as though made of the softest porcelain.
Waylon: Waylon moved with Rosmond's guidance, shifting to snuggle back against against him and let his head tilt back to rest on Rosmond's shoulder. Then he shifted the cat, who he'd been holding gingerly in his hands, on his lap so he could pet it again. When Rosmond's arms slid around him Waylon's own rested on top, holding them more firmly against Waylon's body as if to show he wasn't the delicate porcelain Rosmond was holding him to be.
Rosmond: "Is...Is this appropriate?" he whispered. "This isn't our house..." His cheeks were warm; he hid his face in Waylon's hair.
Waylon: "It's fine, Callums isn't a total stiff, and besides this is completely innocent." Waylon assures him, and his free hand (not petting the cat) moves to rest on Rosmond's thigh.
Callum: Judging that enough time had passed, Callum returned to the living room with tea tray in hand and smiled at the scene he encountered. "Aren't we all nice and cozy. I've brought refreshment." He set the tray down on the coffee table and placed a saucer of tea on the floor for Prospero.
Rosmond: He could feel the heat reach feverish levels with the hand on his thigh. This was so much sensation to comprehend at once. He felt as though he were a kettle too filled with steam. Gertrude had warned him about this and he had given her advice little heed. He hadn't expected this to be the outcome, so how was he to know? He refused to look up from his nook of hair and neck.
Waylon: Waylon could sense something was up, but he assumed Rosmond just wasn't used to this kind of affection, especially in front of someone. So he tried to rub his hand soothingly along Rosmond's thigh. "It smells really good. ," Waylon hummed, sniffing at the new aroma drifting through the air.
Callum: "Tastes good, too," Callum said as he poured. "I grow it myself." Smelling his treat, Prospero abandoned his personal fountain of affection and went to drink his tea.
Rosmond: "Your own tea?" he managed to say, peeking from behind Waylon's head.
Waylon: Waylon made grabby hands as he smiled at Callum, clearly unwilling to move much from his spot.
Callum: "Aye. I find American tea sorely lackin'. What do both o' you take in yer tea?"
Rosmond: "I like mine without anything."
Waylon: "Sugar please!" Waylon smiled, wiggling excitedly for the tea. if Callum's herbs were anything to go by, Waylon was sure he'd love the tea.
Callum: Callum added sugar to one of the cups and handed it to Waylon, handing the other to Rosmond. For his part, he liked his with only a bit of milk. "Shortbread?" he asked, offering the plate.
Rosmond: "Thank you."
Rosmond: "And...okay; thank you."
Waylon: "Yes please, and thank you!" Waylon chimed, and he took a sip of the tea. He hummed as he sipped and nodded with approval.
Callum: "What's the verdict on the tea?"
Rosmond: "I like it," said after a sip.
Waylon: "Delicious," Waylon agreed, and he wiggled back against Rosmond to nestle against his warm body.
Callum: Callum smiled, pleased that they liked what he'd grown. "Thank you verra much. I'd be happy to send some home with each o' you should you desire it."
Rosmond: "I would prefer to enjoy it from the source."
Waylon: "I'll definitely take some- when I have my own place though."
Callum: "Ye're welcome to come around for tea whenever you like," he said to Rosmond, giving him a smile. To Waylon, "I have plenty already dried and packaged and ready to brew."
Rosmond: Being invited back was more than he had hoped when coming here. He had Waylon in his arms and the approval of the man he had wronged. Things never went this well for him unless on duty. Where was the catch? "...Thank you."
Waylon: "Yeah, thanks," Waylon smiled. "You're too kind, seriously you've helped me out a lot," Waylon glanced down at his steaming mug. "If you'd like, I could do some sort of spell for you? Is there anything you think you need?"
Callum: "Ye're both verra welcome." Callum sipped his tea, waving a hand when Waylon offered him something in exchange for what he'd done. "What's given is given freely, mate. Yer friendship is payment enough."
Rosmond: "I'd like to see some magic."
Waylon: "It's not for you," Waylon laughed and he tilted his head back to kiss Rosmond's chin. "I'll show you magic a different day- maybe on our date tomorrow."
Rosmond: "If you insist," he said softly. He wasn't one to argue.
Callum: Callum tilted his head. "What would you like to see?"
Rosmond: "Light magic."
Waylon: "Like, magic manipulating the lights around us?"
Rosmond: "No...just nothing...dark and unkind."
Callum: He smiled. "I've just the thing." He took the spoon from his tea cup, breathed deeply, and then, casually as you please, began to doodle something made entirely of multicolored light in midair.
Waylon: Waylon watched, eyes wide and entranced by the doodle.
Rosmond: Rosmond's eyes widened as he watched, offering one of his signature smiles. "Beautiful."
Callum: "Wait for it." Ever so slowly, the doodle began to take shape. Using the spoon as a sort of light pen, Callum had created a small bouquet a wildflowers. When they were finished and had been solidified by a wave of his hand, he plucked them from the air and offered them to Rosmond.
Rosmond: "What...what are they made of? Is this an illusion?" He reached not to hold but to touch.
Callum: "They're light made solid by magic."
Waylon: "They're beautiful..." Waylon breathed in awe. "You should definitely teach me how to do that..."
Rosmond: "I wasn't aware that magic could create something out of nothing."
Callum: "It can't. I borrowed this light from a lamp in the hallway I never use."
Rosmond: "How resourceful."
Waylon: Waylon reached out to gently touch the flowers. "Could you show me how to do this?"
Callum: Callum nodded. "Sure! We can do it tonight if you'd like. Plenty o' stars to borrow light from."
Rosmond: "I'd love to see this." The art of teaching was fascinating to Rosmond.
Waylon: "It won't hurt the stars?" Waylon asked with a brief hint of concern.
Callum: Callum shook his head. "No' at all. We'll only borrow a wee from a thousands o' them rather than a lo' from a select few. And we'll put it all back when we're done like my cousin and I used to do when we played light-soccer."
Rosmond: "Stars have billions upon billions of energy so I don't think it'll be a problem, right?"
Waylon: "There's a thing called light-soccer?" Waylon asked, his eyes wide and curious.
Callum
"Right," Callum agreed, nodding. He grinned at Waylon. "There is. My cousins and I invented it one feast day. We joked that we were playin' soccer with the moon."
Waylon: "That sounds like so much fun..."
Callum: "It is. Light-golf is fun too."
Rosmond: Rosmond just watched the back and forth quietly.
Waylon: "So, when can you show me all these fun games?”
Callum: "Any time you like." He turned to Rosmond. "Any chance you can get away one o' these nights, mate? I'll grill us all steaks and we'll make an evenin' out of it."
Rosmond: Rosmond blinked and looked to Waylon as though mistaken. He was being spoken to? "Um...I can...I can see about it, sure?"
Waylon: "Well I'm free whenever you are then," Waylon smiles between the two, eager to learn something new.
Callum: "Excellent," Callum said cheerfully. What better way to help Rosmond out of his shell than an evening of fun and magical education.
Waylon: Waylon wiggled excitedly, sipping at his tea again.
Rosmond: The wriggling had Rosmond smiling again.
Callum: "....Would you like me to teach you as well, Rosmond?"
Rosmond: "I'm not a witch."
Callum: "You don't have to be in order to do this, as long as someone with magic harnesses the light."
Rosmond: "Oh...well...we'll see?"
Callum: Callum smiled. "Indeed we will. Just imagine the kind o' light-flower garden you could make for yerself."
Rosmond: "Will people be wondering what's going on with the moon, or only we will see it?"
Waylon: "Ahh- i want a garden- and a light garden sounds even more fascinating."
Callum: "It might grow a teeny tiny bit dimmer if we only borrow from it and no' from any o' the stars." Callum smiled. "I've made smoke gardens, too."
Rosmond: "Smoke gardens?"
Waylon: "What are smoke gardens?"
Callum: Callum stood and went to retrieve a beeswax candle and some matches from the cabinet under his TV. He brought them back to the coffee table, lit the candle, and waited for the wisp of smoke to rise up from the flame before he began shaping it.
Rosmond: "Fascinating."
Waylon: Waylon's eyes went wide with awe and he shifted forward a little to get closer to the smoke.
Callum: "I used to do this when I was little and my da would make us a fire outside. He did it, too. Made wee sailboats."
Callum: "Still does, in fact."
Rosmond: "With fire smoke?"
Callum: "Aye, and with wood. Buildin' boats is what he does for a livin'."
Rosmond: "No wonder he would make sailboats."
Waylon: "It sounds like hard work and skilled hands."
Callum: Callum smiled proudly. "Aye, it is. He actually made me the boat tied to my dock right now."
Rosmond: "It's been ages since I was on a boat."
Waylon: "I've never been on one before."
Callum: "Now that just won't do." Callum extinguished the candle, scooped up the cat, and led the way outside. "Come along, you two."
Rosmond: Rosmond looked to Waylon, silently asking his thoughts on the matter before standing.
Waylon: Waylon glanced at Rosmond before standing up as well. Immediately he took Rosmond's hand and led him outside after Callum.
Callum: Across his lawn and down his dock Callum led them, deftly jumping onto his boat once he reached it. "All aboard," he called as he strapped Prospero into his kitty life jacket."
Rosmond: "Did you make that for him? I thought cats disliked water."
Waylon: Waylon climbed onto the boat after them and squeed softly when Prospero was strapped into his life jacket. "He's so cute in his little life jacket tho!"
Callum: "I got it in a specialty pet supply store." He scratched under the cat's chin. "Some do, but this lovely little weirdo doesn't. He likes to swim."
Rosmond: Rosmond took a seat near the end of the boat, hands on either side of his hips as he watched the other two.
Waylon: Waylon went to pet Prospero's head before he moved back to Rosmond and with a little bit of shifting he slid into Rosmond's lap.
Waylon: "Clearly I can now check off my bucket-list 'go skinny dipping with a cat' so clearly we need to do this."
Rosmond: In his lap? HIS lap? Why couldn't Waylon sit in the middle like a normal human? He was making the ghoul blush again. "Um...skinny dipping? Is that...something Callum wants?"
Callum: Callum laughed. "'Go skinny dippin' with a cat' is on yer bucket list? Why?" He started hoistiing sails and adjusting lines. "No offense to Waylon, but no I do no'. You may borrow Prospero and go skinny dippin' with him another time."
Rosmond: "Have you ever? Skinny dipped?"
Waylon: "It's not really a thing on my bucketlist- I was just making a joke," Waylon blushed, but he turned his head so he could whisper into Rosmond's ear. "Although we should definitely go skinny dipping sometime- just saying," he smirked before he slid off of Rosmond's lap to move toward Callum. "Can I help?" he asked, ignoring the small sense of pride he felt at making Rosmond blush just from sitting on his lap.
Rosmond: If he wanted Rosmond to melt, he was achieving it.
Callum: "Aye. Once on a dare and once because it was hot as hell outside and my a/c was broken. It's so bloody hot in this country." Callum nodded. "Sure," he said, giving Waylon an impromptu lesson as they worked.
Waylon: "With how much I'm outside, you think I would have. That actually /is/ on my bucket list- to go skinny dipping," he listens carefully and follows Callum's instructions.
Rosmond: "Once, long time ago, just like boating."
Callum: "It's pleasant so long as there aren't any beasties in the water."
Waylon: "You've gone skinny dipping and boating?" Waylon asked, glancing over his shoulder at Rosmond. "Yeeeahhh, I don't want to think about beasties in the water, thanks."
Rosmond: "It was pretty acceptable when I was younger," he mumbled.
Waylon: "I'm not judging! It sounds fun." Waylon smiled.
Rosmond: "It's nice on a summer night."
Waylon: "Then we'll have to do it sometime. Gotta check it off my bucket list," he smirks a little.
Rosmond: "A-Alright."
Callum: While Waylon and Rosmond had their little back and forth, Callum guided the sailboat away from the dock and out towards the river proper. There was enough of a breeze that running the motor wasn't necessary.
Rosmond: Rosmond closed his eyes, leaning his head back, soaking in the experience as though for the first time.
Waylon: When it seemed like his lesson was over Waylon walked back over to Rosmond and this time took a seat beside him. Waylon took Rosmond's hand then and leaned over to rest his head on Rosmond's shoulder and enjoy the moment.
Rosmond: He smiled to himself the moment he felt Waylon's touch.
Waylon: "It's a beautiful night..."
Rosmond: "It is..."
Callum: "Perfect night for a sail," said Callum, settling in behind the wheel. Clear nights like this were ideal for drawing light from the moon and the stars. So why not do it? "Hey, Waylon, is there anythin' like an empty bottle or jar in the compartment next to the bench ye're sittin' on?"
Waylon: "Lemme check," Waylon dug around in the compartment, and he pulled out a small jar that he found. "Like this?" he asked and held it up.
Callum: Callum smiled. "That'll do. The light of a few stars ought to fit in there just fine."
Rosmond: "I don't understand how that works. If you took the light, wouldn't you change the course of the universe?"
Waylon: "In this little jar?" Cam asked, his brow furrowed as he inspected the little jar.
Callum: He spent a few moments trying to find a simple way to explain. "Think of...a solar panel. It takes in the sun's light and converts the light into energy, aye? But it doesn't take whatever /makes/ the sun shine, it just harnesses the light that's given out. This works in much the same way. We harness the light that's given by the moon and stars, but instead o' convertin' it into energy, we use magic to draw with it."
Rosmond: "Oh," well that made more sense to him.
Waylon: "Lets do it! I want to totally capture light in this jar~!" Waylon said eagerly.
Callum: Callum nodded, pleased that he'd been able to explain satisfactorily. "You see the reflection o' the moon there?" he asked, pointing over to the left. "Aim the mouth o' the jar toward it."
Waylon: Waylon shifted to face the reflection, and he sat cross-legged as he held the jar out in the direction Callum said.
Rosmond: Rosmond watched in silent interest.
Callum: "Okay. Now close yer eyes, take a deep breath, and draw the light into the jar. Don't think; feel. Magic isn't intuitive. It's visceral."
Waylon: Waylon closed his eyes and concentrated on the light. He imagined what the light would look like, trailing from the reflection and into the jar, and he focused on the feel, what he should be feeling as the image passed over and over through his head.
Callum: Callum nodded as he observed Waylon. "Good. Verra good. Focus on the light. Pull it in."
Waylon: Waylon nodded, and after a few more breaths he light started to lift from the lake and into the little jar.
Rosmond: "That didn't take much practice at all," said Rosmond in amusement.
Callum: "It all depends on how badly you want it," said Callum, smiling as the light flowed into the jar. "Plus, he had an easy target."
Waylon: Once Waylon felt the magic fade, he opened his eyes and placed the cap on the top of the jar. "I did it!" Waylon beamed, and he held up his jar of light.
Rosmond: "You must be a very powerful witch."
Callum: Callum chuckled. "That you did, mate. Congratulations."
Waylon: "I doubt it, Callum said I had an easy target," Waylon laughed, and he leaned back against Rosmond as he looked at his jar.
Rosmond: Carefully the ghoul tapped his finger against the jar, curious if he would get a reaction.
Callum: "A bit more practice on light reflections and someday soon you'll be able to harness the light itself." And until said light was drawn with, it would continue to shine as if the jar were simply a light bulb.
Waylon: When Rosmond tapped the jar Waylon tilted his head, focusing the light to shift toward Rosmond's finger.
Rosmond: He leaned his face closer to the jar for better observation.
Callum: Callum smiled. "Amazin', isn't it? White magic at its finest."
Waylon: "I like it..." Waylon smiled, and the white light shifted again to swirl softly in the jar.
Rosmond: "How long can you keep it contained?"
Callum: "It tends to vary. Since it was contained by magic, it'll last a pretty long time."
Waylon: "That's so cool," Waylon hummed, mesmerized by the light. "I can't believe I had no idea this could be done... your flowers were so firm- so real..."
Callum: "Most spells have a goal, a purpose to serve. Things like this are just for fun."
Waylon: "Well, I wish witches tried to have more fun."
Rosmond: "I can see a tactical advantage, light like this could penetrate supernaturally dark areas, could it not?"
Callum: "...Huh." Callum nodded as he considered it, his expression pleasantly surprised and even a little proud. "It certainly could."
Waylon: "These would be really nifty while camping too," Waylon observed as he turned the jar over in his hands.
Callum: "Aye. You'd never need another generator." Callum chuckled. "I wonder what it says about we Druids that it never occurred to us to use the light for anythin' practical."
Rosmond: "Hundreds of years of magic and candles verses a few decades with electricity."
Waylon: "Yeah- you could light a whole house this way and it'd be so pretty!”
Callum: "That about sums it up, I think," Callum said with a nod. "We magical folk are old-fashioned by nature." He smiled. "It would be."
Rosmond: "I wonder its effects on unholy creatures. Not to say the light is Christian or anything like, but it's made with light magic."
Waylon: "It's just light. Nothing like, purified or made to repel them so it should be just fine."
Callum: "In its current state, aye. It's just light. Although to some creatures that's enough to cause some serious damage provided its from the right source." Pity he hadn't thought to send a mini sun to Victoria Harrak.
Rosmond: There was something he wanted to add, but he didn't feel it appropriate nor did he see an opportunity in which to include it. Instead he remained silent.
Waylon: "This would be cute to hang in little lanterns to decorate a garden or yard..." Waylon mused, still thinking of ideas that the light could be used for.
Callum: "Havin' fun thinkin' of the possibilities, mate?" Callum asked Waylon.
Waylon: "I am! Really, I can't wait to have my own place, filled with plants and witchy things everywhere..."
Callum: Callum smiled. "Call those people whose info I gave you and you might have that sooner than you think."
Rosmond: The ghoul took in a breath. "I can help if you need it," he said coolly. "Victoria had a long reach, and I was her hand."
Waylon: "What do you mean?" Waylon asked, and he glanced back at Rosmond. "The part about helping me I mean," he specified so Rosmond wouldn't feel pressured to answer about the other part, "like- I can go look at the apartments on my own- although it might be nice to have someone from the area who knows if they're a good price and location- stuff like that."
Rosmond: "I know which houses and apartments are most up to standard. My boss - my former boss - was friends with everyone of influence in town."
Waylon: Waylon was about to joke about how sketchy that sounded when he said it like that, but he didn't know enough about Rosmond's former boss to touch that subject with a joke. "Well any help I could get, I'd appreciate it."
Callum: Callum couldn't help but think that 'friend' was too strong a term to use for any of Victoria Harrak's relationships, but rather than say this--or show any type of contempt in his expression--he continued to smile pleasantly. It would be a while yet, he'd wager, before
Callum: Rosmond would be okay talking about Victoria.
Rosmond: Rosmond nodded.
Waylon: "Well, when I see you for our date tomorrow I"ll let you know when i'm going to look at the places."
Rosmond: "As you wish."
Callum: Callum got up to adjust the lines as the wind shifted. "Ready to go back or do you two fancy stayin' out here a while longer?"
Rosmond: "I...don't mind just a little longer." He placed his hand over Waylon's.
Waylon: Waylon smiled and shifted his hand to entwine their fingers. "I don't mind either," he replied, and shifted to let his head fall back against Rosmond's shoulder.
Rosmond: "Is this uncomfortable for you, Mr. MacGillivray?"
Callum: "Excellent well." Callum continued adjusting lines and sails to take them further into the night. "Is what uncomfortable?"
Rosmond: "This...nearness..."
Callum: "No' at all, mate," he said, giving Rosmond a gentle smile. "Feel free to cuddle."
Rosmond: The word cuddle reduced him to a blush.
Waylon: Waylon gave Callum and appreciative smile, and he squeezed Rosmond's hand. With that he looked up at the sky and enjoyed the twinkling stars and the pleasant breeze.
