Post by Sayvahn on Apr 19, 2016 5:20:33 GMT
Open to Lasair Landevier Lupen
Avoiding MI was difficult. There were only so many homes Sayvahn could avoid, though. All of his belongings had been taken from his original home, taken and stored, and the shop had closed somewhat— it still existed, every now and then when Sayvahn needed to return to it. Otherwise, he let others use it, friends who found the space better to store their wares instead of letting cobwebs lie in its place.
But MI had become strained, a fox, sleeping in its chambers, a fox that at once seemed welcoming now only seemed to bare its fangs toward the feline. Perhaps it was better to say that Sayvahn was not avoiding MI, but avoiding facing the man inside whose parting words had been “if I did something unforgivable, could you forgive me?” Sayvahn had asked the same of Lasair, and now, now the barber was afraid to face them. When Sayvahn had asked, the “unforgivable” had yet to happen. But now, now it already had. More than ten years ago, so long ago that Sayvahn could do nothing to change the fact—but the blonde couldn’t hide it easier.
But could Lasair hold that against him? Would Lasair blame him? Sayvahn couldn’t tell. The pain, it hurt too much, the thought of being rejected, of being kicked out of the guild. But maybe it was due time. He couldn’t run forever. His memory returning only proved that.
Entering the mansion, the warmth permeated through, clinging to Sayvahn’s shirt. His normal kept appearance was waning, no longer, clinging to the idea of maintain a certain ideal. The older man’s current mood influenced his dress— Sayvahn hated to admit it. The normally kept shirt was untucked, buttons, loose at the top, the vest, long gone. And around his neck, tucked under his shirt was the bone necklace. He couldn’t part with it. Not now that he knew what it meant, what it signified, and what the markings on his back would tell anyway.
Sayvahn was a slave to his past. There was no use fighting it. But at least he could part ways with Lasair the way he wanted, before things got worse, before Corey found him, and before this darkness inside would take over, as it seemed to, every now and then. The incident with Edelweiss was only an example, was only proof, of what could happen. The feline didn’t want to know what would happen, and what that would mean for the guild— what that would mean for Lasair. The fox had enough trouble. There was no use in the older man adding to it.
And so, the barber entered the place that he knew Lasair would be. In the library, surrounded by his wall of books, as if their pages would protect the redhead from his own demons. Sayvahn wanted to laugh at the thought, but he was more envious, then amused. If only things were that easy for the blond.
“Lasair, ever interested in your books I see.” Sayvahn stated, approaching the redhead, eyes focused on the bent form, voice playful, but it was forced. There was no use for formalities, but he had to start somehow. It would seem strange otherwise. But there was also no point in dancing around the subject. The other had to know, had to understand the costs.” Sorry, but I have to steal you away from them, if ever for a moment.” Reaching into his bag, Sayvahn placed his mask onto the desk, pushing it toward the man.
“Lasair, I want to resign from MI.” Sayvahn stated, fingers, not leaving the mask until the other accepted the resignation, his plea, his wish.
Avoiding MI was difficult. There were only so many homes Sayvahn could avoid, though. All of his belongings had been taken from his original home, taken and stored, and the shop had closed somewhat— it still existed, every now and then when Sayvahn needed to return to it. Otherwise, he let others use it, friends who found the space better to store their wares instead of letting cobwebs lie in its place.
But MI had become strained, a fox, sleeping in its chambers, a fox that at once seemed welcoming now only seemed to bare its fangs toward the feline. Perhaps it was better to say that Sayvahn was not avoiding MI, but avoiding facing the man inside whose parting words had been “if I did something unforgivable, could you forgive me?” Sayvahn had asked the same of Lasair, and now, now the barber was afraid to face them. When Sayvahn had asked, the “unforgivable” had yet to happen. But now, now it already had. More than ten years ago, so long ago that Sayvahn could do nothing to change the fact—but the blonde couldn’t hide it easier.
But could Lasair hold that against him? Would Lasair blame him? Sayvahn couldn’t tell. The pain, it hurt too much, the thought of being rejected, of being kicked out of the guild. But maybe it was due time. He couldn’t run forever. His memory returning only proved that.
Entering the mansion, the warmth permeated through, clinging to Sayvahn’s shirt. His normal kept appearance was waning, no longer, clinging to the idea of maintain a certain ideal. The older man’s current mood influenced his dress— Sayvahn hated to admit it. The normally kept shirt was untucked, buttons, loose at the top, the vest, long gone. And around his neck, tucked under his shirt was the bone necklace. He couldn’t part with it. Not now that he knew what it meant, what it signified, and what the markings on his back would tell anyway.
Sayvahn was a slave to his past. There was no use fighting it. But at least he could part ways with Lasair the way he wanted, before things got worse, before Corey found him, and before this darkness inside would take over, as it seemed to, every now and then. The incident with Edelweiss was only an example, was only proof, of what could happen. The feline didn’t want to know what would happen, and what that would mean for the guild— what that would mean for Lasair. The fox had enough trouble. There was no use in the older man adding to it.
And so, the barber entered the place that he knew Lasair would be. In the library, surrounded by his wall of books, as if their pages would protect the redhead from his own demons. Sayvahn wanted to laugh at the thought, but he was more envious, then amused. If only things were that easy for the blond.
“Lasair, ever interested in your books I see.” Sayvahn stated, approaching the redhead, eyes focused on the bent form, voice playful, but it was forced. There was no use for formalities, but he had to start somehow. It would seem strange otherwise. But there was also no point in dancing around the subject. The other had to know, had to understand the costs.” Sorry, but I have to steal you away from them, if ever for a moment.” Reaching into his bag, Sayvahn placed his mask onto the desk, pushing it toward the man.
“Lasair, I want to resign from MI.” Sayvahn stated, fingers, not leaving the mask until the other accepted the resignation, his plea, his wish.