Hell0NHighWater
Queen of Hell
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Emrys Contiello
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[div class=bar][div class=title]Location[/div][div class=barText]McGuire AF Base {Main building}[/div][/div]
[div class=bar][div class=title]Interactions[/div][div class=barText]His Stalker[/div][/div]
[div class=bar][div class=title]OOC[/div][div class=barText]A filler before shit starts getting weird[/div][/div]
[div class=bar][div class=title]BGM[/div][div class=barText]Crazy on You [/div][/div]
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His hand rubbed across the back of his neck, attempting to release some of the stress in his muscles as he moved. Had it been the wrong call for them to stop here? At the time it didn't seem like they had much of a choice. The weather wouldn't have been forgiving for long and who knows what other shelter could have been found. A breath of air rolled out of him, shoulders drooping just a bit as he forced himself to relax more. Everything was going to be fine, nothing bad was going to--
"You did good, princess..."
His spine snapped up straight, shoulders suddenly tense again. His body turned so quickly towards the sound of that slightly raspy baritone that he almost gave himself whiplash. The movement of his hand to the holster at his hip had been automatic, years of conditioning that forced a reaction that would potentially protect him from an unknown danger. As his gaze focused in on the man ambling towards him, he realized that this wasn't that kind of danger. He watched the lackadaisical gait of his friend and lover as he caught up, there was a specific danger in the way he moved --always had been-- but it was more of an allure at this point for Rhys. There wasn't any kind of concern in his mind that the other would intentionally hurt him. The corner of his mouth pulled upward, head tilting as he paused long enough for the other man to catch up. "Didn't anyone tell you it's bad to stalk? Someone might get the wrong idea."
He chuckled a little under his breath, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants. "Guess it's good you decided to follow me like a fuckin' creeper, I need to talk to you."
"Rhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyssssssss!!!"
He half turned towards the sound of his name, watching passively as Elliot came jogging up to the pair. Rhys stared at him blankly, eyebrow quirking in question, "What do you need?" The shorter man muttered out a comment that Rhys didn't exactly hear, but sort of figured it was good he didn't. He glanced over at Nik and paused, brows furrowing a bit as he looked back over at Elliot. He was shorter than both of them, but the resemblance was a bit eerie when they stood so close together. His eyes flickered between one man and the other, mentally compiling the similarities and differences. It was strange, because they didn't seem to be related but--
"--side. Are you listening to me? I know I can be distracting, but I figured your focus was impeccable."
He brought his attention back to the midget blond, it was true that he usually had great concentration...but with Nik standing beside him it was sort of a toss up with how focused he could be. His lips parted to say something when Elliot took half a step closer, handing him the file that he had been carrying, "I'm sure you have been, but just in case, Marcus told me to give this to you. He wants you to review the plans for the next mission....I'm sure," He placed a hand on Rhys' shoulder, "a capable man such as yourself can handle it."
He gave the shoulder touch a passive glance, opening up the folder to see just what sort of mission that man wanted to run. "It won't be a problem. Tell Marcus I'll have a plan for the morning." Rhys shifted to look at Nik, subconsciously thankful that Elliot had removed his hand from his arm. "Do you have--"
"I've got one, you look like you need it."
He blinked. Azure orbs shooting towards the cigarette Elliot held out before him. That...was what he was going to ask, but it seemed a bit odd that this guy was so prepared. He didn't even know him, how did he know he smoked? It wasn't like he walked around with a cigarette in his mouth at every waking moment. The habit for him wasn't as crippling as it was for Nik. Rhys took the offered nicotine stick, muttering a thanks as he placed it between his lips and started to pat at his pockets. He should have had a lighter somewhere...
"Do you need a light?"
"No, I think I--" His sentence was cut off by the flick of a lighter and the glow of flame at the edge of his cigarette. Elliot slid in closer, standing a little too far into his personal space for Rhys to be comfortable. As soon as the cigarette was lit, he gave the other man a slight nod of thanks. Elliot didn't move away immediately causing the detective to quirk his brow, "Is there something else I can help you with?"
"Not at the moment, handsome, but don't be a stranger." Elliot flashed him a grin that morphed into a sneer as his attention shifted to Nik for a moment. "Uh...alright?"
Rhys shrugged at Elliot's retreating form, chalking it up to the kid just being super weird. Then again, they looked like they were probably the same age...which wasn't really as comforting a thought as he would have liked to have. The whitelighter nursed his cigarette as he started walking, albeit a bit slower than before. He was quiet, holding the folder at his side as he attempted to drum up the words he needed to. "What made Ryan fly off the handle?" That wasn't it. Not the phrase he needed nor the question he really needed to ask. They were another quarter of the way down the hall when he stopped again, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt the slight raise of skin where a scar marred the bridge and he pulled his hand away with a sigh, smoke flaring out of his nostrils upon exhale.
"We never got the chance to finish our conversation. The one about--"
He cut himself off, noting how open the hallway was and how anyone could just walk right on by. His lips pressed into a thin line, moving to a door on their right. Locked. A noise of irritation spilled out of him, "We probably shouldn't discuss this in public." He paused for a moment after he said that, turning to Nik with a finger raised, "No. Not like that. Get your head out of the fuckin' gutter Voss." He moved over to another door, trying that knob. No luck. "I just want to have a decent fuckin' conversation for fucks sake, who the fuck locks all the fucking doors in this goddamn place?" Rhys was power walking towards the next door when it opened, almost hitting him in the face.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, are you alright, mister?"
He peaked around the doorway, looking at the frail looking woman clutching a baby to her chest. She looked just as startled as he did and it took a second before Rhys nodded, "Yes, I'm fine."
"Oh thank God."
"I doubt he had anything to do with it."
The woman shifted a bit uncomfortably, giving him a weak smile before looking down at the baby cooing in her arms. "The Lord works in many mysterious ways. We may not know what they are, but...I do believe he has a plan for all of us."
Rhys snorted, fighting and failing to keep the look of utter irritation off his face. She had almost hit him with a door, that didn't really give her the excuse to start preaching at him. His hands slid into his pockets once more, rocking back on his heels as he cast a look back at Nik. His lips parted with a retort, one that would have mocked her words with the reality of who it was she was talking to, when the baby began to let out soft cries. They almost sounded like whimpers. His gaze shifted to the infant, brows pulled together the longer he looked at the bundled figure. "Please excuse me, March, my daughter, needs something from Rida. If you...happen to see Scott can you tell him that I need to speak with him?"
"Uh...sure." He stepped out of her way, watching as she hurried back down the hallway. His hand reached out to catch the door before it fell shut, glancing back at Nik he jerked his head towards the room. "There's a lot of weird fucking shit going on here and I don't like it one fucking bit." Rhys grumbled, azure eyes roaming around the expanse of the room.
If he painted the walls black the room couldn't be any darker. The once frilly net curtains at the window were thick with over a decade of grime. The light that struggles through fails to reflect from the once beige carpet that is more like a forest floor in both color and texture. The walls could really have been any shade at all, he couldn't tell. It reeked of ammonia too, which made Rhys wonder just what that lady was doing in here with an infant child. His hand reached for the light switch, watching the buzzing glow of a lamp come to reluctant life. He crossed the room in a couple steps, picking up an old picture from an end table. Nothing in here looked like it had been moved in years. He was quiet, even after the door clicked shut and he knew without looking that Nik had followed him inside. He took a breath, setting the picture down as smoke crawled out from the edge of his lips. His gaze swiveled back to the Quasi-devil, the cut of cobalt in his irises seeming to churn with lighter shades brimmed in struggling emotion.
"I know you have questions...from earlier that I really didn't get to answer and I wanted to in case..." His voice trailed off, not really wanting to finish the implication of that sentence. His shoulders rose in a half shrug, "We don't have to talk about this now. I can go see what Marcus is scheming...I just figured it would be better to answer whatever I could. It's not...everyday you see someone get brought back to life." His lip curled up into a barely there smile, looking a bit uncomfortable as he slid his hand back into his right pocket, fingers fiddling with the bright blue stone.
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"You did good, princess..."
His spine snapped up straight, shoulders suddenly tense again. His body turned so quickly towards the sound of that slightly raspy baritone that he almost gave himself whiplash. The movement of his hand to the holster at his hip had been automatic, years of conditioning that forced a reaction that would potentially protect him from an unknown danger. As his gaze focused in on the man ambling towards him, he realized that this wasn't that kind of danger. He watched the lackadaisical gait of his friend and lover as he caught up, there was a specific danger in the way he moved --always had been-- but it was more of an allure at this point for Rhys. There wasn't any kind of concern in his mind that the other would intentionally hurt him. The corner of his mouth pulled upward, head tilting as he paused long enough for the other man to catch up. "Didn't anyone tell you it's bad to stalk? Someone might get the wrong idea."
He chuckled a little under his breath, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants. "Guess it's good you decided to follow me like a fuckin' creeper, I need to talk to you."
"Rhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyssssssss!!!"
He half turned towards the sound of his name, watching passively as Elliot came jogging up to the pair. Rhys stared at him blankly, eyebrow quirking in question, "What do you need?" The shorter man muttered out a comment that Rhys didn't exactly hear, but sort of figured it was good he didn't. He glanced over at Nik and paused, brows furrowing a bit as he looked back over at Elliot. He was shorter than both of them, but the resemblance was a bit eerie when they stood so close together. His eyes flickered between one man and the other, mentally compiling the similarities and differences. It was strange, because they didn't seem to be related but--
"--side. Are you listening to me? I know I can be distracting, but I figured your focus was impeccable."
He brought his attention back to the midget blond, it was true that he usually had great concentration...but with Nik standing beside him it was sort of a toss up with how focused he could be. His lips parted to say something when Elliot took half a step closer, handing him the file that he had been carrying, "I'm sure you have been, but just in case, Marcus told me to give this to you. He wants you to review the plans for the next mission....I'm sure," He placed a hand on Rhys' shoulder, "a capable man such as yourself can handle it."
He gave the shoulder touch a passive glance, opening up the folder to see just what sort of mission that man wanted to run. "It won't be a problem. Tell Marcus I'll have a plan for the morning." Rhys shifted to look at Nik, subconsciously thankful that Elliot had removed his hand from his arm. "Do you have--"
"I've got one, you look like you need it."
He blinked. Azure orbs shooting towards the cigarette Elliot held out before him. That...was what he was going to ask, but it seemed a bit odd that this guy was so prepared. He didn't even know him, how did he know he smoked? It wasn't like he walked around with a cigarette in his mouth at every waking moment. The habit for him wasn't as crippling as it was for Nik. Rhys took the offered nicotine stick, muttering a thanks as he placed it between his lips and started to pat at his pockets. He should have had a lighter somewhere...
"Do you need a light?"
"No, I think I--" His sentence was cut off by the flick of a lighter and the glow of flame at the edge of his cigarette. Elliot slid in closer, standing a little too far into his personal space for Rhys to be comfortable. As soon as the cigarette was lit, he gave the other man a slight nod of thanks. Elliot didn't move away immediately causing the detective to quirk his brow, "Is there something else I can help you with?"
"Not at the moment, handsome, but don't be a stranger." Elliot flashed him a grin that morphed into a sneer as his attention shifted to Nik for a moment. "Uh...alright?"
Rhys shrugged at Elliot's retreating form, chalking it up to the kid just being super weird. Then again, they looked like they were probably the same age...which wasn't really as comforting a thought as he would have liked to have. The whitelighter nursed his cigarette as he started walking, albeit a bit slower than before. He was quiet, holding the folder at his side as he attempted to drum up the words he needed to. "What made Ryan fly off the handle?" That wasn't it. Not the phrase he needed nor the question he really needed to ask. They were another quarter of the way down the hall when he stopped again, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt the slight raise of skin where a scar marred the bridge and he pulled his hand away with a sigh, smoke flaring out of his nostrils upon exhale.
"We never got the chance to finish our conversation. The one about--"
He cut himself off, noting how open the hallway was and how anyone could just walk right on by. His lips pressed into a thin line, moving to a door on their right. Locked. A noise of irritation spilled out of him, "We probably shouldn't discuss this in public." He paused for a moment after he said that, turning to Nik with a finger raised, "No. Not like that. Get your head out of the fuckin' gutter Voss." He moved over to another door, trying that knob. No luck. "I just want to have a decent fuckin' conversation for fucks sake, who the fuck locks all the fucking doors in this goddamn place?" Rhys was power walking towards the next door when it opened, almost hitting him in the face.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, are you alright, mister?"
He peaked around the doorway, looking at the frail looking woman clutching a baby to her chest. She looked just as startled as he did and it took a second before Rhys nodded, "Yes, I'm fine."
"Oh thank God."
"I doubt he had anything to do with it."
The woman shifted a bit uncomfortably, giving him a weak smile before looking down at the baby cooing in her arms. "The Lord works in many mysterious ways. We may not know what they are, but...I do believe he has a plan for all of us."
Rhys snorted, fighting and failing to keep the look of utter irritation off his face. She had almost hit him with a door, that didn't really give her the excuse to start preaching at him. His hands slid into his pockets once more, rocking back on his heels as he cast a look back at Nik. His lips parted with a retort, one that would have mocked her words with the reality of who it was she was talking to, when the baby began to let out soft cries. They almost sounded like whimpers. His gaze shifted to the infant, brows pulled together the longer he looked at the bundled figure. "Please excuse me, March, my daughter, needs something from Rida. If you...happen to see Scott can you tell him that I need to speak with him?"
"Uh...sure." He stepped out of her way, watching as she hurried back down the hallway. His hand reached out to catch the door before it fell shut, glancing back at Nik he jerked his head towards the room. "There's a lot of weird fucking shit going on here and I don't like it one fucking bit." Rhys grumbled, azure eyes roaming around the expanse of the room.
If he painted the walls black the room couldn't be any darker. The once frilly net curtains at the window were thick with over a decade of grime. The light that struggles through fails to reflect from the once beige carpet that is more like a forest floor in both color and texture. The walls could really have been any shade at all, he couldn't tell. It reeked of ammonia too, which made Rhys wonder just what that lady was doing in here with an infant child. His hand reached for the light switch, watching the buzzing glow of a lamp come to reluctant life. He crossed the room in a couple steps, picking up an old picture from an end table. Nothing in here looked like it had been moved in years. He was quiet, even after the door clicked shut and he knew without looking that Nik had followed him inside. He took a breath, setting the picture down as smoke crawled out from the edge of his lips. His gaze swiveled back to the Quasi-devil, the cut of cobalt in his irises seeming to churn with lighter shades brimmed in struggling emotion.
"I know you have questions...from earlier that I really didn't get to answer and I wanted to in case..." His voice trailed off, not really wanting to finish the implication of that sentence. His shoulders rose in a half shrug, "We don't have to talk about this now. I can go see what Marcus is scheming...I just figured it would be better to answer whatever I could. It's not...everyday you see someone get brought back to life." His lip curled up into a barely there smile, looking a bit uncomfortable as he slid his hand back into his right pocket, fingers fiddling with the bright blue stone.
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