Fantasy Petal Plucking Theory

[CherryPetalTea]

Despite the explanation Agnes still didn't quite understand why he'd be deemed confusing. Though he didn't bother to complain or say otherwise. The man was free to think what he wanted and as far as he was concerned, the less the man understood about him, the better.

Agnes' lips parted rather easily as he was offered water once more. While it was rather embarrassing to have to be literally assisted with something as simple as drinking water, he knew that there was no other option. He was still rather thirsty and he'd rather have some water than no water. His tongue ran itself over his petal pink lips as the water was pulled away and he took the moment then to just enjoy the soothing feeling in his throat.

"Training?" The question came out so quiet that it went by most likely unheard. First the man had insulted him, let him beat himself to hell, killed another man, basically kidnapped him, patched him up, and now was offering to train him? Talk about a wild card. Agnes' train of thought went to a near complete stop as he began to watch what was before him with complete interest. While he knew he should be terrified, he really wasn't. All he could feel was curiosity. Seeing something so dangerous, something that could destroy everything here in a second, just be controlled? He really couldn't describe all that he was feeling. It was just, in a way, amazing. Could he really be able to control his powers in such a way?

His left eyebrow rose slightly at the sight of the man panting. At least there was evidence that this man did actually have the ability to be weakened. A quick flash of pain resulted in his own expression to curl into pain for a moment before recovering to just a somewhat troubled, hazy, and curious look.

"That's . . . you know, after showing me that, makes me feel like all of this may be rather pointless." He couldn't help but think that even if this man . . . trained him, that maybe it'd be impossible to even beat him. But, then again, Agnes wasn't even fully aware of the extent of his own powers. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. Yes, the man's power had been intimidating and thrilling but it surely couldn't be impossible to beat.

"I've . . . " Agnes trailed off for a moment, looking somehow more confused. Damn. The longer he stayed awake the more tired he was getting. And colder. "I don't know. I've had them for as long as I can remember."

 

[atomic]

“Yes, Agatha. Training,” Solomon repeated himself, sounding impatient because he thought he had been clear enough with his intentions here. Sol didn’t like to repeat himself more than multiple times. So if this was any indication of how their training was going to be from this point onward, he would have to rethink Agnes’ speaking privileges. Solomon still felt a little winded from the display. It was tiring. And he was tired. His leg ached.

Fortunately, Solomon was okay with showing that did have weaknesses. Everybody had weaknesses. He was only human. And he was a human that didn’t have a healing power or anything like that. He might be able to pull the pain away, but Solomon was just as fragile as Agnes was. Had Agnes landed that blow, there’s no telling what would have happened. One thing was certain, there would have been nobody to pick his body up and fix it.

He expected that. It was the trade off for choosing things like power, success, fame, and money over other people. And Solomon had a lot of those aforementioned things. He’d certainly done enough to deserve to die on his own. But he wouldn’t let anybody do that without his permission. Solomon hated losing. So his death, whenever it happened, and it would happen, would be by his command. His rules. His fabrication so in the end he would have no regrets. It was all part of the plan.

Agnes was part of that plan, so he took care in making sure the curious thing was taken care of. And his plan was gonna go nowhere if Agnes was already admitting defeat. Solomon’s lip curled in distaste. “Well, of course it seems pointless, now. You’re an absolute mess. If you cooperate with me, we can change that.” And then Agnes could do whatever Agnes did. Dear lord, what did this man do with his life? He seemed grossly ordinary. The most special thing about him was a tie between his power and his uniquely feminine looks.

Solomon placed his knuckles back on Agnes’ forehead as the other answered about his powers. “Hold that thought,” he stood, this time leaving the bedroom on his feet since his world spun from that demonstration, earlier. A minute or two later, Solomon was back with some medicine in case Weasle couldn’t be tracked down and they had to seek alternative methods. Like... real doctors. Pouring the correct dose into a little cup, Solomon then tipped the medicine into his throat, “For the fever.”

“How have you been practicing with them so far? And how often?” Solomon offered more water to wash the taste of the medicine away, “And what is your power? I’ll ask one more time before my methods get more impatient and unpleasant.” Because it would be best not to forget that this was Nyhil. Solomon Nox. And Sol had about a billion broken bones he could push on to make Agnes talk.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Now to say that Agnes was a fan of the medicine would be a complete lie. It tasted like all kinds of death and wrong. Well, okay, so maybe that would sound dramatic to anyone else, just not to Agnes. Most medicine coated his tongue with what he swore was the flavor for the brew that would cause the end of the world. It was just that bad. His face scrunched up like some sort of bratty child after the liquid spread down his throat. He was rather thankful when he was given water afterwards but it didn't hadn't helped his moment of disgust.

After his facial expression returned to normal and his eyebrows stopped scrunching up like some angry caterpillars, he looked at the man with a very not-so-fond stare. Another rather important thing would be the fact that while Agnes knew the name of this man, his history among the news, he certainly hadn't bothered to call the man by his name. No, that name just gave him power. It was a title of all the things he'd done, so no, Agnes did not want to call this man by a name. Not yet anyways.

"I don't practice much, well, on new things." Finding that the man would most likely make due on his threat, he decided to answer. As he very well could answer but only reveal some parts of the truth, or maybe if he was feeling daring enough, he'd straight out lie. "As for what my abilities are? I don't even know if I can give you a real answer. You're right about gravity manipulation. Glad you thought far enough to discover that than to label me with something as boring as telekinesis." Ah, truly. If it had only been something that easy. "Guess there are some other things, but even I wouldn't know what to call them." Well, now, some of that was a lie.

Gravity manipulation. Density manipulation- or maybe, just mass. Maybe it was neither and it was just simply still something that had to do with gravity. Sure, he could chalk it up to weight, but weight was just a measurement that relied on gravity. That wouldn't make sense, especially considering he could cause something to do more damage but not have more damage caused to itself.

"And don't get on me about not practicing. I would, if it didn't feel like hell to do." His head tipped back so he could look at the ceiling, allowing some information to slip through. Agnes was also rather curious as to what the man's reaction would be. More sarcasm? Would he learn more about the man himself? Ah, maybe he could throw in a snappy reply at some point.

 

[atomic]

Sol didn’t know what exactly practicing on new things had to do with practicing at all. In fact, the best method Sol had found was practicing on whatever and wherever he could. In doing this relentlessly and consistently every day, he’d made sure to have completely mastery of his power. Anything less would have been complerely unacceptable in his own mind. Solomon just didn’t work like that. He always had to be better than he was.

He looked up at Agnes, nodding at the final declaration of his powers. Very good. Look. They were already making progress and Solomon hadn’t had to use force at all. “Good boy,” he rubbed it in. He wasn’t aware, more did he suspect, that there was parts Agnes wasn’t telling him. Again, he wasn’t good at reading people and catching when they were lying or decieving him. That would always be a struggle.

Solomon just carried along as normally as ever. He was just about done with Agnes for the day. He’d gotten the boy’s name in the care. He’d gotten boy’s power. And now he imagined that he should let the guy sleep. The last comment made Solomon huff in annoyance, “You’re just a whiner. If you think messing with the void was a piece of cake for me, you’d be wrong. But... we’ll see when you actually start demonstrating the control that you do have.” He hoped to God Agnes had some control by now. Or this was going to be a long long unpleasant experience for both of them. And with that, he brushed one last piece of hair into place before walking out the room without a goodbye.

————

Iosif had been able to track Weasle down, so in the next day. Solomon watched as the woman, twitching and muttering to herself, began to weave Agnes’s bones and tissue back together. Unlike some healers, Weasle’s power took longer and was by no means a painless process. It was likely worse than when Agnes had actually gotten the injuries. But because Solomon had gotten wary of the noises and the expressions on Agnes’ face, he’d stepped in to pull the pain away for the duration of the process. It had taken a few hours. Sol was exhausted by the end of it.

And he’d passed Agnes into Nika’s care so he could try and recover by himself. Agnes still wouldn’t recover from the fever for a few more days. And he had also given Nika the responsibility to look after him. Give him water and food. Medicine. By the time she reported that he was actually doing well, Solomon decided to finally come to the room to visit. He wasn’t wearing a full suit this time. Only a white button up and some black thin jeans.

His hair was still styled back, and he still looked good. And yes, the sunglasses, aviators, never left his face. Sol stepped up next to the bed. Agnes did actually look much better. His body was still bruised and scarred, but physically, he seemed healthy. But... Sol scrunched up his nose, “You look and smell disgusting. Come on, you’ll shower and come with me downtown to get something to eat.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Good boy his ass. Agnes hoped up and down that such a title would be something he'd never be called again. With a small grumble of complaint and nothing more he resigned to just closing his eyes. The man was done with him for now and that was enough. Damn. He wished he'd been given a blanket or something to be covered up with at least. And of course he didn't miss the last and final touch that brushed his hair aside. Weird. Maybe the man was just keeping him alive due to an odd obsession with his hair.
-
Agnes hadn't been able to imagine the pain that would be accompanied with healing. Getting the injuries themselves had been enough to nearly knock him unconscious almost immediately. This was just somehow much, much worse. Every little pinch, snap, and jolt. He felt absolutely all of it. Oh how close he'd gotten to begin to scream and cry but then something, not his own pride, kept him from doing so. It was as if the pain had been drawn away from him and despite him being uncomfortable, the rest was gone. Such allowed him to breathe. Funny. If this continued he may become attached to the main during his delusional moments that involved pain, since in this case the other seemed like a savior. But to hell with this lady.

He really hadn't been able to keep count of the days that had passed since then. Agnes spent most of his time sleeping, taking what he was given, and not bothering to ask questions. Asking questions just didn't seem right at the time, or maybe, the only questions he asked he wanted to be answered by . . . that man.

So by the time Mr.EatMyVoidYouPeasants came back he was almost excited to see him. Okay. Excited wasn't the right word. Relieved maybe? Agnes was definitely tired of being stuck in this room. But, the moment the man spoke, annoyance crossed over his face. Relieved wasn't the right word either.

If he still didn't feel like he'd been ran over by a train a few times then he might have actually tried to use his ability right then and there. Not like he really had any ideas for what to do. "Wow. Thanks. Good observation. Not like I haven't been stuck here for days." He muttered with a small pout on his lips. Yes. A pout. Like a child. At the moment he really couldn't get up, because you know, he was stuck to the bed. Then also there was the fact he hadn't really gotten the chance to actually stand on his own for a good period of time so he'd be so unused to walking that it might even be miserable.

 

[atomic]

“Stop complaining. Your own fault,” Solomon responded, giving the other a little look. He should have had Nika get him showered or something because the man was covered in at least a week’s worth of grime, sweat, and maybe some blood from that first day they met. Dear God, he would have to have this mattress replaced. But in the meantime, getting Agnes some fresh clothes and a shower was the top priority.

He muttered under his breath, leaning down to undo the cuffs again. It was probably pointless for them to be on. But Sol found that putting people in physical restraints made them much less likely to run. He was certain that after he got this guy up on his own two feet, again, he would be much more evasive and rebellious. As long as no serious attempt on his life was taken, however, Solomon was a pretty patient guy. He wasn’t going to kill Agnes even if the man did try to fight him again.

But that would be a poor choice, because as he was soon going to make things clear, Solomon would not be treating the other with compassion. He wouldn’t go easy. And if Agnes thought he was suddenly good enough to fight, again, Sol would prove how wrong he was. Challenging Solomon also meant running. The man owed him, now. He had a debt to pay. Sol was going to collect.

He stood back, waiting for Agnes to stand up and get a move on. But by the apparent lack of movement coming from the bed, Solomon was fairly certain the guy was staying there. He blinked. “Are you going to make me touch you?” The man sounded legitimately uncomfortable as he eyed all the grossness. It seemed he didn’t have a choice. His typical indifferent expression became something a little more distraught as he reached under Agnes’ shoulders, helping him to his feet.

“Hand here,” he muttered, jaw setting as he gestured for Agnes to use his shoulders while Sol wrapped an arm around his waist? Back? He was very uncomfortable. “If you could control your powers we could simply float you to cleanliness.” He might have made a joke. It was hard to tell when his brows were fixed into something resembling discomfort and protest. “How are you feeling, brat? I apologize for my lack of interest the past couple of days. You weren’t very interesting.”

Solomon tightened his grip on Agnes, bringing him to the bathroom. Everything about his suite was modern and spacious. Angles. Simplistic moderation with bold colors accenting dark greys and whites. The bathroom Agnes would be using was all dark granite counters and walk in showers with the water coming from the ceiling. He stopped leading the man, cautiously taking his arm from around his waist and placing it on his hip to keep him balanced. Sol didn’t care if it made Agnes uncomfortable. Instead, Solomon stood readily by in case the man started wobbling. “Can you stand? If you fall and hurt yourself in the shower, it will be very embarrassing. I will tease you about it.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes indeed was rather uncomfortable. Not just from being touched and touching the man but also the amount of grime and blood that were stuck to his body. He felt as disgusting as he looked. Though instead of fighting the help he just relied on it for as long as he was decent enough to have it. "Huh. Pretty sure that's cheating and anyways, no need to apologize. It was nice to be free from your voice for a few days." His lips twitched in the smallest of smiles.

"Though if you're ever so curious I guess I'd say that I'm feeling bad but not awful. Guess I'm alive. Not in agonizing pain. Just sore." The sentence trailed off once they reached the bathroom. Agnes took the time to look around. Now the bathroom was definitely nice but also not something he was used to. With a quiet and shaky sigh he tilted his head to look up at the one that had helped him here. "Anyways I'm not going to give you that option. Trust me. I'm not going to fall." He would be as stubborn as hell and do what he could to not fall. "And even if you do happen to hear some banging definitely do not come check."

The blond was hoping that the man would not be staying in the same room while he showered but he guessed it didn't matter as long as the man wasn't looking at him. He was dying for some time by himself anyways. Just a long enough period to clear his head and get himself clean. Man. A shower really sounded great.

Tilting his head up he tried his best to look up at the man. "You're . . . going to be elsewhere besides in here, correct?"

 

[atomic]

“What? Do you not like the sound of my voice? I’ve heard people tell me it sounds like silk,” Solomon mused, letting Agnes’ tease move from one here and out the other. He was curious. He did want to know how Agnes was feeling. If he didn’t he wouldn’t have asked. It was either easy or hard to talk to Solomon depending on if you spent too long thinking about what came out of his mouth. But people like Agnes should do just fine.

Agnes seemed to be in a bit of a spot. Sol’s lip twitched, but otherwise didn’t comment. If Agnes fell, he was sure he would be more annoyed than anything else. He would probably send Iosif to see what had happened. Solomon wasn’t bound to want to get his clothes wet. But in any case, he trusted that Agnes would be able to take his shower without falling. And thought the brat would only see the top peak out from under his glasses, he cocked a brow.

“Unless you want me in here with you, I was planning on stepping out,” there was a sneer. Sol stepped away from Agnes and made to leave him with his own thoughts. Sol trusted that the man would want a shower more than he would want to run. “I’ll get you some clothes and place them just outside the door for when you’re done. My brother is about your size. Oh good, you’ll get to look like a massive prick for a while.”

And Solomon left, though just before he closed the door he leaned back in, “When you’re done, meet me in the living room. It’s just down this hall.” Finally, Sol closed the door. He used his power to get into Iosif’s room a floor below him. He picked out some dark gray jeans and a thin striped V-neck T-shirt . The brand was expensive since everything Iosif wore was expensive and high quality. Even the boxer briefs that Solomon made sure were very clean. Nobody should subject themselves to sharing contact with his brother’s dick. Not even the brat.

And when the clothes had been settled where he said, Solomon retreated to the living room. He plopped down in his arm chair that nobody else ever sat in. And he stared at the TV, watching politicians argue about this and that. The story of the bank robbery had long lost relevance so now people had settled down. He found he wasn’t actually watching actively, but intstead listening to the water run from a another room.

This place was usually so quiet.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

So maybe there was a high possibility of Agnes thinking that the man had a nice voice. Though maybe there was the low possibility of him wanting to admit that. Since there wasn't anything he could think of saying Agnes just simply nodded before making his way to the shower. His feet wobbled under him and for a moment he thought he'd be colliding with the ground, but he managed to save himself from that adventure. Using the wall as support he was able to turn the shower on- letting out a complete groan of relief when the water turned from cold to warm and ran itself over his skin. Every single bit of it was amazing.

He took a few minutes to just stand there with some support. Agnes' head was bowed with his eyes closed which allowed the shower water to run against the top of his head and drip down the dirty strands. The feeling of the warm water pressing against his neck and brushing against his spine allowed him to relax. Damn. Hadn't realized how tense he was. Slowly he pulled himself back and began to just wash his body first; mainly to just try and stretch out and get used to actually having full mobility again. It was odd using the soap provided. He really wasn't used to smelling like someone else. Well, someplace else. No, Agnes was used to his citrus and ginger body wash and his floral-oceanic hair products. Oh, well. He'd get used to it. Maybe.

It took longer than he would like to admit to get every bit of dirt and blood from his body. Ew. The colour of the water spiraling down the drain wasn't pretty. And, out of everything, his hair definitely took the longest. Part of his scalp was still very sore and he was careful with each pull he made. Though untangling everything was the absolute worst and it didn't help that his hair was as long as it was. Funny. He was complaining now, but he'd actually been planning to grow it out. Guess he'd have to suck it up.

Once his hair was as gold and smooth as he could be he finally turned the water off. Good. By that time the water at the floor of the shower had become clear. That was a good sign. Grabbing one of the provided towels off of the nearest shelf he started to gently wipe away the droplets that clung to his body.

Agnes had to rely on the wall, shaking rather heavily in the effort. Yet in the end he was able to completely dry himself off, excluding his hair. His scalp felt plenty more sore after all the tugging from the detangling and his arms were very, very tired. So he settled for just somewhat drying his hair and trying the towel around his waist as he opened the door and peeked out, grabbing the close that had been left out for him and tugging them rather quickly back inside the bathroom. Of course he didn't miss shutting the door again.

Shedding the towel and relying on the nearest wall Agnes was able to get changed. Ah, well, the clothes did fit. Though once again, the new smell definitely threw him off. It wouldn't be the first time he'd worn someone else's clothes but considering he wasn't exactly . . . friendly with any of these people, it was odd.

Hanging the towel back up once he was done, Agnes glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror. These clothes certainly wouldn't be his first choice with how fancy they were, but, he didn't complain. They were nice at least, but, they didn't hide his bruises and scars. That lead him to being rather grateful that he hadn't been given shoes. His feet were still so sore that he wasn't certain he could take the pressure.

Soon he was leaving the bathroom and limping to the living room at a slow but decent pace. Once he finally reached where he'd been instructed the living room was he peaked his head, though instantly regretted not having tried to look around the place first. He'd just gone to the room like some sort of obedient dog.

 

[atomic]

Solomon had curled his knees up to his chest at some point, sitting as comfortably as he could while he waited. He'd gotten used to being comfortable when he was in his own suite. There was no use to be all uptight and pretentious at every waking moment. When nobody was looking, that sort of thing had started feeling exhausting. He knew that his younger self would no doubt chastise him for sitting like a child in his mid-twenties. Sit up straight. Compose yourself. One day, if you keep slouching, you'll look like an ugly dinosaur, and nobody will take you seriously. He hadn't exactly had the most forgiving inner voice as child.

Now that he had reached the top, he was much more forgiving. He allowed himself more things that he never would have, before. Sitting like this, with his arms wrapped around his knees and his back pushed into the corner of the chair was one of those things. He was still watching the news even if he wasn't really interested in what was going on in the world. He still had a glass of wine on the coffee table next to him if his maturity were to ever come into question. Surprisingly, it did. Quite often, actually.

Solomon waited patiently, wondering if Agnes was enjoying his shower. He also wondered if Agnes was intentionally using so much water so Solomon had to pay for it. That seemed just the type of thing that this guy would do as soon as he was given the opportunity. Solomon yawned, settling his chin on his arms and legs because what else was he going to do? Eventually, the water shut off and Sol waited for the- oh, there it was. He had found his clothes alright. That was good.

It didn't take too long from that point for Agnes to make his way to the living room. You'd think that one of Solomon's powers allowed him to control people's actions with how mindlessly obedient this man was turning out to be. But at the sound of the approaching footsteps, Solomon straightened out his legs and sat correctly in his own chair. Self image in the face of other people would always bring back that harsh voice in his head telling him to sit up straight or else. Solomon turned in Agnes' direction, taking note of the way the man was treading slowly.

Perhaps it would be best not to take the man on a long walk. He'd try that in the evening after the other was better suited to walking about. For now, he stood up to greet the other, making sure to grab his glass of wine on the way over. His eyes looked Agnes up and down as he did yet another one of those objective analyses of the other's appearances. In the same way he would tell the brat that he was not nice to look at and smelled bad, Solomon's opinion had changed since the shower, "You look nice. Much better. Though, it's a shame there's nothing we can do about that hair. Have you thought of putting it up? Or cutting it off? That would be preferable."

It was the nagging thoughts in his head that also made him slick his naturally wild hair back into obedience. Solomon looked over the glass at Agnes as he brought it to his lips, "Would you like some wine? Or brandy. Whiskey. Mmm, you probably drink beer. I might have something in here." Solomon nodded for Agnes to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen. Now that Agnes was showered and clean, he sent a quick text to Iosif to clean up the man's sheets and bring him some new clothes. "Where do you live, Agatha? I'd like to get you some clothes. Yours would be preferable. Huh. Quick thought. Are you living with anybody? A girlfriend, perhaps."

Sol shot him a look, took in the fair facial features and everything. "Or perhaps a boyfriend," he decided to tease, "After all, it has been a week and your description has been on the news. People might be missing you."

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"Actually . . . I've been planning on continuing to grow it out. Sorry to disappoint you." Of course he wasn't really sorry. His hair was his hair after all. He was free to do what he wanted with it and no way in hell would he be cutting it any time soon. Hair was, in a way, a kind of shield. Not literally, but it was something that provided an odd sort of comfort to him. Agnes could brush through it when he was nervous and it provided cover to his ears and neck when he was cold.

Once at the kitchen Agnes provided a first answer with nothing but a small shake of his head. "No. I don't drink anything of that sort." The next thing said sent him from calm to immediately annoyed in a second. "And you know, you could at least get my name right."

Agnes was rather used to not being called by his actual name, but even then, still didn't mean the other names didn't annoy him. Annie, Gigi, and hell, even Nessi. They were all absolutely ridiculous nicknames he'd gotten over time. Curse his name, and yes, definitely curse his parents. No, he didn't think being feminine was a bad thing. It was just the fact that people seemed to want to point it out all the time. Wow. It wasn't like he choose to just get this kind of face.

"I'd really rather not tell you where I live. And anyways I believe that's something you could probably find out on your own. But, if you must know about the other things, no. I don't live with anyone and I'm not dating anyone." With a soft sigh and roll of his eyes the man continued. "Funny you say that. Because yes, actually, I've had dates with plenty of males in my lifetime. Though, don't worry, you're definitely not on the list of men I'd consider date worthy so don't become full of yourself."

Him liking men had never really been hidden nor had it been out in the open. He was just rather certain he didn't like women, in that way of course. Though his relationships with any other male had never lasted long and left him feeling more miserable by the end of it than anything. Seemed like he was a beacon for assholes. No, nothing terrible had really ever happened, they'd all just had dick sort of personalities. Usually left him in the dust like they hadn't given a damn about him in the first place.

 

[atomic]

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Solomon commented, a hint of insincerity staining his response. So Agnes wanted to grow his hair out? Well, Solomon certainly wouldn’t make him cut it. But he would still judge the guy. And long hair was a sign of insecurity in some cases. Well... perhaps it could also mean that the person wearing that hair just didn’t give a fuck how they looked.

Obviously, Solomon wasn’t thinking about the pros of long hair. Like getting to style it how you want. And if you were the other person, Nika had said once that she loved guys with long hair. She said it was fun to braid. But Solomon was more concerned with taking out some ingredients to make something for breakfast. “Do you eat eggs? And ham? I would never be so inclined to impose on any vegan diet you may have along with distaste for drinks of ‘that sort’.”

He tossed some air quotes around the words, unable to really get what Agnes was saying. In any case, he was already frying some eggs because he was not vegan. And he enjoyed food. Sol was a pretty decent cook. He enjoyed the hobby and found there was always ways to improve your cooking. That was nice. Something he could work on and put his efforts into. “Your name? But Agatha is so much prettier.”

And that’s all he had to say about that. Agnes was currently making some point about his sexuality to a man who could not care any less about that. He was instead now thinking about how he was going to have to find Agnes’ place of residence on his own. It wasn’t worth trying to argue it out of him. Solomon did look up and over when Agnes had to make sure to reassure him that he wasn’t datable.

You don’t say?

“So, you must know all about it. What men do you consider date worthy? Because, darling, nobody’s waiting in line for you, either,” he shot Agnes a wink. It was dumb to make that sort of comment to somebody when you really should take a look in the mirror. There was nothing special about Agnes besides the man’s power and stupidity. So no, if they were having a conversation about date worthy people, Solomon would like to make quite clear that Agnes was lacking as well.

Though... was Solomon really lacking? He had the looks. The money. He was missing the charm, but he could certainly mimic it if he needed to. He scrambled the eggs and added some fresh herbs into the omelette, “I should be the one reassuring you. I find nobody appealing or date worthy. I have more important things to devote my mind to. Case in point. Your training. Explain to me what you do to practice in detail. Would you like onions in your breakfast?”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"I'll just eat whatever." Agnes decided to keep any of his own opinions of this meal out. He was decently hungry after all and he'd pretty much take anything to eat at this point. Alright. Anything that would reasonably be considered a meal fit for a human at least. "Agatha huh? Well. Whatever you'd prefer."

Ah. Fun banter. Right now he really couldn't find himself to mind the insults they were throwing at each other. As far as he was concerned it was nothing to take seriously. Not missing the full body sweep the man's gaze had done over him Agnes went ahead and did one right back before raising an eyebrow. "Yeah. At least you're aware the same goes for you. Glad we can agree on something." He let out a small laugh. How had he even gotten into this situation? Alright he knew how, it was just difficult to process.

"Nothing that's interesting. Just . . . moving things of varying degrees. That's all." Trying anything more just resulted in a physical hell. Skull splitting headache. Searing pain through every inch of his body like something just as living as him was being pulled out of him. It was tiring and in the end it just really didn't seem all that worth it to put himself through that. If he could make do with being able to move small things and slowly build up then he'd take that.

With a small sigh Agnes tilted his head like some sort of sad puppy. "Not like you're going to listen to my request anyways. Feel free to put whatever you want in whatever you're making." Agnes had indeed to just label the meal as "whatever" in a taunting way as if the food looked so poor he couldn't even tell what it was.

 

[atomic]

Solomon offered Agnes a small little half smile that definitely looked fake and manufactured. This was the smile he gave people when he was moving on from a certain point innthe conversation. Agnes’ name was not important to him so he wouldn’t spend more time teasing it or whatever else he could do. He started dicing some onions to throw into the omelet, deciding that it would taste better with them.

He would probably be a little upset if, after all this effort, Agnes didn’t like it based on a certain ingredient he put in. That was why he asked, you know? To make sure he was making something tailored to somebody’s tastes. Yet, Agnes seemed wildly unconcerned so Sol did what he did best. Unlike Agnes, Solomon completely missed the way he swept his gaze up and down. Sol always missed nonverbal cues like that. Bad him a little slower to catch up in any conversation.

But he didn’t need nonverbal cues to understand Agnes’ killer jab. “I change my mind. I wasn’t going to tell you to spare your feelings, but no. We don’t agree. I’m more than datable. If I were ‘into that sort of thing’,” Again, Sol threw up airquotes, “Chances are I’d already be married. And I’d be cooking this meal for four, yourself included. Our newly adopted circus child.” He chuckled at the thought, flipping the eggs again in their pan.

He turned off the oven and dropped the omelette onto the plate delicately. He was proud of this one. Just the right consistency of everything. He walked over and placed the dish on the kitchen island for Agnes. “We’ll start by honing your focus. I assume that by now you have a feel for your power, at least? For instance, mine feels like an energy that over time got easier to differentiate with the energy of our natural world.”

Solomon stopped to look at his omelette and then at Agnes, expectantly. But his expression turned into a subtle frown when the man labeled his meal as ‘whatever’. His brows furrowed and he set to work on his own omelette, tossing ‘whatever’ he did into this one too. Really, who would have thought that insulting his cooking was one of the few things that actually shut Solomon up and didn’t breeze off him. He genuinely liked to cook, after all. Solomon typically didn’t genuinely like to do anything. “When you’re finished with that, I’ll start working on your focus with you.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes nearly raised an eyebrow at the smile but held back. It seemed he was holding back on a lot of things after meeting this man. "Aren't you just hilarious. I don't believe I should be considered part of a circus." While that was all he said he was thinking a little bit more. Like how this man's ego wouldn't even allow him to get a date even if he so desired. He on the other hand was falsifying his own confidence. His own snarky comments involving his past love life were just, well, comments. As a younger man he had dated people before but no, he didn't let that get to his head. Pretty much anyone could grab some sort of love life. Maybe not anyone, but a good amount of people. He'd count this man in the small amount of people that did not.

"Yes. I have a feel for it. It's kind of hard not to." He mumbled as he glanced down at the plate. Alright. So the food definitely didn't look or smell bad but that was on the list of things he wasn't going to tell the man. "Also . . . I mean, this plate is nice, but where's the silverware? I need to eat somehow." A sliver of metal came into his tone, like that of the blade of a knife. His comments weren't something he could help really. They just slipped.

Usually he'd be crawling with guilt if he were trashing someone who had actually put in effort to make something for him, but right now that wasn't happening. And since he wasn't getting many signs that he was upsetting the other man, that was also keeping any guilt away.

Fingers tapping against the counter a small frown came to his face. Was he being too much of a jerk? This man was not a good man but either way, the man had taken care of him. Provided for him. He was just frustrated. And embarrassed. So he was lashing out with any low comments that he could. It wasn't right and the satisfaction only lasted for a few seconds, but he continued to do it.

 

[atomic]

“Really? Your lack of self confidence is truly astounding, Agnes. Surely, even you could be considered good enough for a circus,” Solomon focused again on his own omelette. He was trying his best to push away the thoughts of how exactly he was going to train this man when every few words out of his mouth was something snarky and wasteful. But, at the same time, Solomon hardly imagined that the other would be so entertaining.

This was not the typical reaction of somebody who had been nearly killed, kidnapped, and held more or less prisoner in some villain’s suite. He wondered if Agnes had really grasped the severity of the situation at hand. He was stuck here. And Solomon had decided to be the one to make Agnes’ decisions for him. He was holding a debt over the man’s head, and was now using him to carry out, hopefully, the last step towards Solomon’s story of triumph. His swan song, of you will.

Solomon looked back when Agnes commented on the silverware. He looked confused for a second, before that confusion turned into something more condescending. “Are you really that much of a brat that you have to have somebody get you your silverware before you can eat?” And here Solomon thought that he was the spoiled rich one. Yet, either way, he stepped away and pulled a fork out of the drawer, making a big deal as he presented it to the whining man, “You fork, my king.”

Solomon heaved a sigh and returned to his breakfast, turning off the flame and sliding it onto his own plate. He contemplated for a long minute or two whether he would eat this in here, or leave to enjoy his meal alone. Solomon didn’t eat with people. He never sought out his brother and sister to eat out unless they were already in the town all together. But even then, they typically tried to do their business to get away from each other as quickly as possible.

And unlike Agnes, Solomon hadn’t really ever been in the business of dating people. He had no close friends, or perhaps, no friends in general. And he lived by himself. All of this, mind you, was by his own choice. Sort of. He’d gotten used to being alone when he was a child. It was hard to hold down friends when you were smarter than everybody, and also terrifying and unpredictable.

So now he was here, the idea of eating a breakfast with somebody he barely knew was daunting. Yet very casually, is if it weren’t a big deal for him to be doing this, Solomon sat down opposite of Agnes. His shoulders were suddenly tense. His brows were furrowed and concentrated on the omelette. It was very true that because Solomon was Solomon, ego and occasional social awkwardness intact, he would never get a date. Good thing the thought of that was either repulsive or terrifying.

He cleared his throat, “I’m going to set an array of objects in a group. Close together. I might have some glass balls lying around from my own training. You’ll use those. Lift the centermost ball in a line without shattering it. Do you think you can do that? Chances are not on the first try, repetition is the key to control.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"I haven't exactly been here before and knowing all locations of forks isn't part of my abilities." Agnes' lips turned upwards for a small moment only to resume their gentle frown. With some hesitance he moved the fork down to cut himself a piece of the omelet. Of course he wasn't thinking something as drastic as the food having been poisoned, he'd been there the whole time. It was just, well, eating food that was made for you by your enemy wasn't exactly the most usual things.

Tongue curling around the fork in the first bite, he let out a gentle breath through his nose. Damn. Well, this man's cooking was proving worthy to be considered good. Honestly it was the best thing he'd had as of late. "Alright. I'll give it to you. This isn't half bad." Of course he wasn't just going to say it tasted great. No way.

Glancing up at the man he took note of how, ah, tense the other was. He couldn't recall the man having been looking that way before. Some deeper part of him actually hoped his own comment may relieve the tension of the other man. No, not for some reason out of pity, he just wasn't the biggest fan of seeing someone that uncomfortable. Sure, he had his moments where he could be a complete ass and could intentionally hurt someone mentally with some verbal comments, but the satisfaction really did never last long. It gave him a whole lotta being a jerk, maybe softening his words for a minute, and then being a complete jerk again. It was a bad habit.

". . . Alright. That doesn't sound bad. Easy enough." Though, the glass part may be somewhat tricky. One wrong thought and the ball could end up shattering. Changing the pull on it wouldn't be an issue, but there were other factors that Agnes wasn't very good at controlling.

He'd also never really handled glass things. Therefore, it may be even harder. Agnes just didn't want to let that slip.

 

[atomic]

“You have a mouth that you love to run, you could have asked.” It seemed pointless to argue about a fork though, so Solomon dropped it. He had much more pressing issues on his mind. That was becoming a habit with him. Deciding things just weren’t worth the effort to think about. Solomon was rather just caught up trying to feel comfortable with eating across from Agnes. This was not okay.

He nearly dipped out when the man commented on the food. Of course it wasn’t half bad. Sol made it. And everything Solomon did was bound to be excellent. So he was betting that Agnes was lying by calling it half bad. All good. That’s what he should have said if he were concerned with being truthful. Naturally, having something to think about besides the weirdness that was sitting and eating with somebody was helpful.

Though his shoulders were still tense and he still looked ready to bolt. He was no longer feeling as though it would be the end of the world. But he was accrediting that to the fact that his mind was easily distracted, not towards a notion that Agnes could maybe hope to relieve Solomon’s stress. Sol was quite convinced that him being uncomfortable would bring this brat joy. He focused on eating his omelette in peace.

“When you use your power, does it affect the area around it? I’m talking about when you target something smaller. If so, this is a sign that you need more control. I wouldn’t call it easy until you’ve sat down and tried for yourself.” He ate a little more. “Can you... explain how your power affects you physically? It’s never uncommon for these gifts to be a double edged sword. Using them comes at a cost.” He blinked, unwilling to elaborate on how familiar he was with this concept. Though, needless to say, Solomon had never thought to himself unwilling to pay that cost.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes found he had never once thought about the things the man was now asking him to think about. Of course that would be excluding the question on his physical condition. Though when it came to the spaces his power focused on . . . well. He had to at least touch something to make it move but he wasn't exactly certain as to what part was actually the focal point. "I don't really know. I have to leave part of myself on something to be able to do something with it. Usually just a brush of my finger is enough. I'm not certain of what area is being focused on. Things'll just move how I want them to."

These questions were seeming rather nonthreatening. He concluded it wasn't a bad thing but it was definitely somewhat odd. In this situation he expected to be treated in a harsher way. Physical or mental it didn't really matter. Just this was all rather flowing nicely despite the earlier bumps in the road that involved the injuries he'd gained through his own mistakes.

"There's a few ways I think. Sometimes I'll get headaches and just become lightheaded in general although that's usually not immediate." Agnes hesitated for a moment as he took a small moment to think over whether sharing his pains would be good or not. As far as he was concerned it would just be more for the man to pick on him about. Yet he found himself continuing anyways. "But I think part of these pains is the reason I can't answer your first question. When I move something there's always a tug. Sometimes it's just an ache or a pull like I've got a string attached from me to the object but other times if the object is big enough, or, you know, heavy enough, it feels like something is being yanked out of me."

He'd paused from eating then as one of his hands curled, fingers brushing in against his palm. The pain was a lot to think back on. No, he didn't handle pain well. He never had. As a child he'd truly been the biggest crybaby. "It hurts. It's like what I imagine it would be like to just have my insides torn out, or really, just to have parts of my body torn from me. But it's still different than that. I just feel when I'm moving things as if I'm also losing part of myself to provide the energy to do so."

Stretching out that same hand he stared down at his fingers. Quite a few scars and bruises still littered his hand. Ah. Guess that made his hands look a bit less unfeminine. "And afterwards, usually, I'm exhausted. Everything'll ache. I've never had different result." While admitting so much he still left out a few things. Like how misusing his power could result in random injuries on himself.

 

[atomic]

“Are you sure you have to be touching the object to effect it?” Solomon now looked thoughtful. He liked working through things and figuring them. There was a chance that Agnes was just so inept with his own power that he didn’t know what he was capable of doing just yet. But that was no biggie. Solomon would help him figure out those hidden bits and pieces. “I imagine you can do incredible things with your power. Gravity is a Law after all, and you’re bending it. Does that make you a criminal, I wonder?”

Solomon could only imagine what he could do with gravity. His eyes got this far off look, as though he was visiting some other world. And in that world, he was leveling entire cities just to make a point. God. The possibilities. The power. “I’m jealous.” The two words were quiet. Possibly not even meant to be heard by Agnes and not directly spoken to the other. “I believe the only amazing thing about the void is that it allows for fantastic branding opportunities in my... line of work.”

People though of darkness and emptiness as a specifically villainous trait. And since he had never felt things a normal child might, he supposed that’s where he ought to target for his goals. His goals, by the way, had not been inherently evil things. Yet, over time, he found it was just more convenient to get power, status, and money by being evil. And since he didn’t feel anything, either way. Why not?

Solomon fell out of his head to listen carefully to Agnes’ description on how his power affected him. He found this interesting as well. That was certainly something Sol could relate with, as much as the idea of relating to this guy left a sour taste on his tongue. He was compiling all of this new information and figuring out the best course of action. And when Agnes was finally speaking, Sol was quiet.

He finished a few more bites of his omelette, wanting to eat some before it got cold. And when he finished swallowed, he folded his hands on the island counter. “I think I can help you. Admittedly, when I was a teenager, I nearly killed myself multiple times. Is there anybody who’s been guiding you with this? It makes things harder without somebody who’s more experienced babysitting your training. Making sure you don’t overwork yourself. Also... start working out. Eat more. Your power sounds like it takes more energy than you have to expend. Mine isn’t quite like that.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes hurried to finish up his omelet before speaking again. After all he didn't want it cold nor did he want to not finish it. "I'm pretty sure. I've always had to touch something to feel the . . . pull. String? Whatever you want to call it. If I've not touched something then I've never felt a pull to it." He tried his best to explain although he didn't know if his explanation was really providing that much information. "Also don't go getting all philosophical here. I'm not going to be lumped in with the same category as you."

Pushing the plate slightly away as it was now empty he finally looked at the man again. Had he heard the other right? If he did then maybe it was better to keep his mouth shut for the time being. "It's not like I want to compliment you but I definitely wouldn't say your ability has only one amazing thing about it. Sure. I definitely don't like you or your ability but you helped me. Okay, so, my injuries were due to me not having a backup plan and you using your ability to escape my attack. But, even then, you helped me with my pain afterwards. So, I mean, I'd consider that something sort of amazing." Wow. Never thought he'd say that to this guy. "Anyways, don't get used to my compliments. You can still go to hell." There we go. That brat in him was still there.

No, he wasn't feeling any sympathy for the guy. But he was just going to be honest. Sure the void ability was scary as anything above but there was nothing he could do about that, and Agnes knew that allowing himself to be scared would be pathetic.

His comments were followed by a small shake of his head. While he absolutely did not like this man hearing how he'd nearly had his own life end due to ability misuse still called Agnes' stomach to sway a bit. It was just . . . well, it wasn't good to hear.

"No. There hasn't been. You're the only person I've ever told about this and, well, that was my first time using my powers in front of anyone. But working out, really? That sounds even more exhausting." While Agnes really didn't work out himself that much, he still had a decent build. So he was a bit thin, but that was about it.

 

[atomic]

“Well, this changes my plans for your training in control just a smidge. But I’ll figure something out. Can’t have those dainty little hands of yours cut up with glass, now, can we?” He eyes Agnes’ hands and the scars that still marred what had probably been clear skin. Solomon only had one scar of his own, but it could be easily hidden. This poor kid looked like he’d been through a meat grinder. And so in vain, too. What a shame. At least it might give him talking points at his next date with a new ‘lucky’ guy.

That is.. if Solomon allowed him to date. Ew. He supposed he would have to or his siblings would tease him. It would be far to creepy to keep this guy locked in his tower and forbid him from seeing other people. That sort of things wasn’t Solomon’s concern. Locking him in the tower, yes. Keeping him from getting it on with the objectively cute bellhop downstairs? Not so much. Solomon’s mind was still missing over this topic when Agnes managed to get his attention.

My my, was that a compliment? So soon? Was he already winning over the brat? He was smirking, the expression very subtle but still there. And with an ounce of mirth in his voice he leaned against the counter, “You can compliment me all you want, but I’m sure we both know that whatever you say, there’s no doubt where I’ll be going when I die.” Was that too morbid? Considering that he was speaking to the man he hoped would be the manufacturer of said death? If it was, he didn’t show it.

Just like Solomon held no sympathy for Agnes, he would never expect or want the other to feel any for him. If he wanted sympathy, do you think he would be living in the top floor of a massive hotel named after himself? He folded his arms against the table and raised an unimpressed brow over his glasses. “Yes, as in physical activity. And exercising gives you more energy to use your powers. My brother, bless his ever-deteriorating brain, can assist in your physical training. He is a Chad so you’ll have to talk slowly in order for him to understand you.”

With that, he actually smiled at Agnes, showing genuine amusement before standing up to take their plates to the kitchen sink. He had to think of how he was going to do this whole training thing now that he knew Agnes might not be able to control objects from a distance. How lame. But he figured he ought to ask another question, “Do work, Agnes? Go to school? I imagine you had some semblance of a life before this, even if it did not involve a significant other or a family member living with you.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes really couldn't help but glance at his hands then. The once clear and fragile looking skin was now a mess of thin to large lines. It wasn't pretty. His hands weren't the only parts of him that had been awfully damaged and he couldn't help but wonder how long the scars that were etched onto him would last. He understood they could remain for a few more days or, maybe, even for many more years. While he'd never focused on his appearance the realization left him with his stomach rolling and his lungs tightening. Since he was certain he was only average before then . . . well. Guess he was way below now. Of course he knew it was a childish way of thinking but he really just couldn't help but think about it.

"Yes. I do, well, did work. Uh . . . with other people's pets actually." Completely avoiding other questions and comments, he went forward to talking about his own, uh, now past jobs. "Well. Never mind. You don't need to know exactly what my jobs were." He lifted his hands to wave them a bit frantically in front of his face with a somewhat nervous smile. For some reason it was a bit embarrassing to admit he'd planned his carrier with, well, little fluffballs that he absolutely adored.

Now, the blond had not missed the man's smile. It had surprised him. Not really in a bad way, just in a he really couldn't understand way. The smile wasn't creepy, no. Not even with the fact that the man seemed practically soulless. Just seeing it caught him off guard.

"Why do you want to know? And what do you mean 'before this?' This isn't really some kind of new life. How long are you planning to keep me here?" Now, that got to him. Agnes hadn't had the facts hit him until now. While he was free right now the man certainly wasn't planning to let him go.

 

[atomic]

Solomon didn’t think that Agnes would be feeling such a strong emotion about the scars. But then, Solomon wasn’t the one who’d fucked up and ruined his whole body. That was Agnes. Agnes. Agnes. Solomon would not be held responsible for any of the horrible things that this man had to deal with from now on as a result of that. Though, if Agnes were to ask Solomon of yet another objective opinion, the man would still think Agnes was average. Scars didn’t change that for him.

He lifted a quizzical brow, “And why would I not need to know your past jobs? Am I to understand that you do not wish to keep them?” He wasn’t really serious about locking this man in his tower for the rest of his life.

He had Weasle locked away just as much as he had Agnes, yet she was hardly welcome in his hotel unless he called for it. “You may come and go as you please. But know that I have eyes all over this city, and if you try to run from your debts - of which you now have plenty - I won’t be happy.” Solomon was hardly thinking about adorable fluff balls Agnes may or may not adore.

“Your life is different now. I don’t like to tell people that they’re mine, but for all intents and purposes that’s exactly what you are,” he washed the dishes and stepped up in front of Agnes, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “Please put your number in my phone. And when I call you or text you, I expect you to drop whatever you’re doing. And until I can trust that you know the rules, you’ll be living here. Like a leech. Expect that to add onto your debt as well. Every second I choose not to kill you is a second you owe to me. Understand now?”

And that was Solomon. One second he was offering a genuine smile, and the next he was offering death threats. Whether the smile had actually been genuine or not was suddenly more questionable. It was more likely that Solomon didn’t feel anything to a real extent. And that made everything easy to fake. To pretend he could feel things and make people believe he was like them. But really, the power he used held quite a cost.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"You know it's not like I can exactly keep them when I'm here." Agnes pointed out as he was rather confused by the man's question. Of course he'd want to keep his job but considering he was already all over the news and had been gone for . . . well, a while. He certainly didn't think he'd be getting them back. Then there was the fact he'd have to face everyone who now knew something about him he'd never wanted them to learn. It would just be, ah, too awkward.

So, maybe not as awkward as suddenly being claimed as the "belonging" of another person. Gritting his teeth for a moment he got prepared to come up with some sort of a snarky retort but he just couldn't find something to say. How was he supposed to react to that? Being called that and then clearly being told he was stuck here? Well . . . his thoughts stopped then. Maybe it wasn't all bad. After all, this was a pretty nice place to get to be able to stay. It just didn't really feel nice.

Not wanting to reveal his discomfort Agnes relied on rolling his eyes in a sign of annoyance. "Yeah yeah. Alright. If that'll make you happy. Don't know exactly what you think I can give you but don't expect much." As he began to put in his own contact information he was tempted to give a false number- just to something ridiculous. But he was also thinking about the fact that after the man contacted him for the first time by cell, could he possibly just send a bunch of annoying text to the man in return?

Maybe he could continuously text him dramatic quotes or something like that. Agnes could be a rather annoying texter if he wanted to be. While he wasn't certain his text would actually go through he'd certainly amuse himself.