And So It Is Said (Closed)

[Duffy]

And So It Is Said (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kuwdw7KmGwA)


1978



Set after the events of Maudlin' For Memories & Dark Messenger.

Closed to the Ixian Knights.

It takes a certain kind of someone to forgive, and a certain type of someone to forget. Either individual is a rare event in the world, and rarer still, is the sort of person to do both without batting an eyelid. The camaraderie amongst the Captains of the Ixian Knights had begun to breed that same sort of individual, an evolution of one's self defence against a constant cycle of practical jokes, blood setted brawls and drunken fists slung in the canteen at dawn.

This was half the reason Duffy had agreed to join. Whilst the troupe offered a youthful, fun and buoyant atmosphere to bander ideas and enjoy the highlights of living a life set on a creative stage, the altogether more mature world of the Knights offered a glimpse of the profound, a glimpse of the 'adult' world which for so long had eluded the thief. The busy hubbub of Sei's Grand Citadel offered newcomers into the order something the Prima Vista could not - it offered prospects, and something more substantial than leftover stew and Ruby's cucumber sandwiches.

He kicked his heels against the legs of the table, sat as he was on the end of the ancient oak struts. The canteen was quiet, filled with a spartan spread of dreary looking soldiers and people ending the night duty to drift into a ghost like slumber through their respite. The distant chiming of metal in the great porcelain sinks offered a hint that a meal had been served not too long ago, but the moment was passed, and the floor thick with the sluice of lamb mince and potato.

Duffy chuckled at the mention of the vegetable. Running jokes were a plenty amongst the Captains, but that particular incident between Jensen Ambrose, the arrogant brawler, and William Arcus, the strange and enigmatic tyrant of fire was burnt into the back of Duffy's skull as clear as day. He clocked the entrance again, and then looked at the great grandfather clock hanging over the canteen counter. "Late again," he mumbled, rolling his eyes and returning to his sub-concious counting of sheep.

He hoped his message had been delivered to Jensen, and he hoped he was man enough to turn up.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen felt no particular rush to do anything today. Azza was in class and Stephanie was with Ta’gaz, training. Anita promised to baby-sit his daughter and Kyla booked his girlfriend for the rest of the night. Usually on these nights it was time with Aislinn where he went with the girl to the local bar and they chatted, fulfilling the terms of their partnership. However Aislinn had to cancel as her old doctor friend came to visit, so the immortal was left to ponder what to do.

His whimsical spirit led him all the way to the library where he wondered if they had a copy of a particular book he enjoyed titled Temen-Ni-Gru. He had found William Arcus towards the back of the building, hunched over reading and scrawling notes as he scratched his head confusedly. He spied Tobias talking to the librarian, her fingers robbing her blind in one movement, then in the next returning everything. He spotted Pell and Jaime both pouring over a book about women and the applied arts of how men should treat them in bed, and saw several other people enjoying the quietness the library offered to people.

He made his way over to Tobias, lifting his hands up and placing them around her neck as he hugged her tightly, her fingers dropping the librarians glasses and wallet. Tobias’ turned her head to see the immortal and grinned before she made a move to counter his hold.

“Hey you two, no rough housing!” The librarian said heatedly as she lifted her stuff off the ground. Jensen tugged on Tobias once more before letting the elf go, leaning on a bookshelf and waving his hand in front of his face.

“Bush humper wouldn’t be able to get in a lick to consider it rough housing,” Jensen said passively. Tobias merely leaned on the back of her leg, tapping her foot before bringing up her hand, holding Jensen’s Nikieria Necklace in her hand.

“What kind of faggot carries flowers around?” Tobias inquired with a giggle.

“The kind that loves his daughter and brings a reminder of her wherever he goes!” Jensen said snatching it back, lying about the flowers origins. In truth he received them from his battle with a girl named Jennifer Oakley, the woman being brutally beaten by the immortal’s hands. He had lost a lot of his self control that day, and the necklace was a reminder to never do so again. Only one other time had he ever lost his self control, and that was against Duffy Bracken. The red flower petals were dyed that way with the thespians blood.

Tobias huffed to him in a playful manner before waving goodbye to the immortal, and he just lifted a single finger as his goodbye before he looked to the librarian. What he saw instead was a fair built woman with an air of drama around her. Her crimson hair let a single lock fall before her left eye, and she irritably swatted it aside before she placed her hands on her hips looking to the knight with a determined face.

“You are hard to find, Mr. Ambrose,” Ruby said wagging her finger to him with a hint of a grin on her face.

Jensen knew Ruby La Roux well enough after his fight with Duffy. When the two walked out as brothers the Leader of the Tantalum demanded the immortal meet his new friends. Though still uncomfortable with the concept of having friends, Jensen went along and met everyone in due time. Ruby was by far his favorite, for she made him food, (A delicious cucumber sandwich he would never tell Stephanie about) but more importantly, she spoke sense. Lillith was an interesting person, her assassin skills making the Knight respect her as he himself was an assassin for the Knight's of Apocalypse. Arden Janelle wasn’t a bad guy, but he didn’t strike a chord with the knight. The kids were all running around like tyrants, all eager to meet the newcomer and Jensen felt himself laughing pondering about bringing his little Azza to play with them one day.

Though one look at Ruby and he could tell it was time for business. As the member of the Tantalum he liked the most he gave her a soft look. “Duffy would like to ask your presence at the Canteena this evening, to be no later than when the gong strike eight times.” She smiled as she bowed, apparently the message was a little play and Jensen clapped wildly for her, whistling and shouting encore over and over much to the annoyance of everyone else in the library.

He was particularly hoping he annoyed William.

“Tell him I’ll be there,” Jensen said as he began to walk towards the door. Ruby let out a soft giggle before she walked next to him.

“Mr. Ambrose, if I may be so bold,” She smiled to him and pointed to the nearby clock. “It is ten past eight. As I said earlier, you are very hard to find.” Jensen looked to the clock, then to Ruby, then back to the clock.

“Shit!” He said and with a wave he ran off to find Duffy and partake in whatever hair brained scheme he was coming up with. Not that the immortal cared in the least, for if Duffy was concerned, then it was bound to be a good time.

[Duffy]

Jensen strolled in right on cue, and Duffy pushed himself off the end of the dining table with a fwop. The sprint in Jensen's step told Duffy that he was keen and interested, and not hiding in a monstrous cloud of wit and bravado for once. The time of day had been carefully selected to bring out a more subdued and thoughtful Mr Ambrose, if such a thing were possible, and the rogue was already a drink or two ahead to soften the mood into something comfortable.

"I is glad you could make it, Jensen," he flashed a smile and pulled off his bandanna. His mouse brown hair was a mess, as ever, and he ruffled it casually into something resembling presentable. "I 'ope Ruby din't bite your balls off, she has that tendency to, what is it they say, be a bit feisty?" He left the question hanging in the air and started to limber up, perhaps offering the wrong impression of what he had called his new found companion to the dining room for.

If Jensen ever paid attention to things outside of his own hazy world, he would have noticed that Duffy, who typically went about as a human armoury, was unarmed. His belt was bare of it's daggers, his waist unaccompanied by the rhythmic sway of steel and his back was without the relic of progeny and mysticism called the Katarhna by his plucky accent. It was just him, and his innocence, and a whole heap of determination. He gestured to the table opposite, which was arranged in lines to cram as many members of the Ixian Knights in as possible, and sat back on the edge of the table he had leapt from.

"Please, take a seat, I'm sure you want me to be tellin' you all!"

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen looked inside the shanty Duffy had set aside, and the feeling he experienced was on the edges of confusion and wonder in equal measure. First off, the thespian was draped without his battle gear, and second off he had an air to him that showed no hostility. Figuring out that this wasn’t going to be call to arms the immortal took his two knives and tossed them on a table along with his throwing glaives. He then took his gun and holster, lifting them up off his belt loop and let it clatter to a mound on top of his other weapons. And, just for such an occasion, he pulled out a small rubber chicken he bought from a toy store, and tossed it on top like a cherry on a dessert.

The room was well lit, he could tell, and the circular table indicated that room for more was undoubtedly what would be happening. The immortal pondered exactly who would be coming to this little gathering and headed for the drinks, pouring himself and Duffy a glass of the good stuff before turning and heading back, dropping the drink in front of his so called brother off and whim fully turning with a grin as he sat at the table, legs kicked up and stretching as he leaned back to the back two legs of his chair, sipping the liquor and feeling the warmth of the fire drink burn his pipes.

“Oh, this is nice,” The immortal admitted lifting the glass to his eye and looking inside for a closer look at the amber liquid. “But that’s besides the point of leading me to a secluded area and offering me a free drink. Tell me this isn’t some sexual fantasy you want to relive, actor,” Jensen did his best to imitate the Scara Braen accent in his words. “And be tellin' me wha' 'da bloody hell is going on.” The immortal smiled offering his friend a salute.

[Duffy]

Duffy chuckled, it seemed Jensen's enthusiasm and good sense of humour were inexhaustible resources he could draw on without so much as thinking about it. At first, it had grated on him, a severe blow to his own ego that perpetuated a rivalry Duffy wasn't entirely sure he liked in himself. As time and gone by, however, he had warmed to the dancing buffoon and saw his own identity reflected back at him. The rivalry of words was now one of fists, good, brotherly love shared in the battle field.

"If it were a sexual fantasy I assure you, Stephanie and Ruby would be here, wearing something we Scarabraens like to call a birthday gown," he winked, perhaps with too much sauce applied to his cheek. He shook away the embarrassment at even having suggested it, and slapped his knees as a sign of commencement. "You ask for an explanation, so here it is, I need a favour of you."

He let the whiskey trickle down his throat one more time before continuing, once again finding comfort in a bottle to bring out the best in him. He had not had enough to bring out the worse, but that was a talent he had developed over many, many erroneous nights out on the cobble streets of home. In his mind, it was a relatively simple offer, but he couldn't help but think Jensen would take it personally. In his long struggle with his own enemy, never mind those of the The Nine, he had half wished he had waited to deliver the artefacts, and give one to Jensen to protect...he had the heart.

"I need you to teach me how...how to be a better leader."

He downed the last of the glass and poured another, slamming it down onto the grubby table to snap silence into the gap between answer and reply. He averted Jensen's gaze to give him time to think, and most importantly, time to rib him into submission. "I ain't sayin' a good leader is what I'm not...but I wanna be better. People might dislike you, misunderstand you, misconstrue you..." he glanced back at his friend, raised his now full glass and held out the bottle for Jensen to do the same.

"But they will follow you to the end all the same...how so?" Duffy was swallowing a lot of pride to even ask, but he put on a brave, humble and innocent face and let the ambience and friendly nature in the air prove his point.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen listened to the thespian pour his soul out, then pour himself another glass. The immortal looked to his friend and was stunned by the impact of the words. To be a leader? Jensen wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that. Jensen led a group of people once to raid the local bar. That was fun. But on the battlefield?

“Insecure, eh?” Jensen mentioned as he took the bottle and poured some liquid fire into his glass. They cheered each other before drinking again letting the moment pass. He could tell the man was really hard strung to even bring the idea up, and that it was quite the burden he seemed to bare. Jensen shook his head and snorted before going into a fit of giggles.

“Sod off, Bloke,” Duffy murmured under his breath as he took another sip of his whiskey. Jensen lifted his head up and laughed riotously as he looked to Duffy and slapped his knee. After a few moments of careful prodding to see if Duffy was a man or not, he settled down and looked out the window.

“Stars are a shining beauty tonight,” Jensen murmured as he watched the sunset and the twinkle of the first born stars in the purplish orange sky. “An old friend taught me that the stars are at their most beautiful when they are coming in on the waves of the setting sun.” Jensen recalled the memory of Chanelle Kim-Hotep and the night they spent under the stars. The Fallien beauty sat with her head in his lap, the immortal stroking her hair as she pointed out every star and named it. Jensen was positive the woman was just making it up, but he loved to hear her wild stories of fantasy. His heart became burdened as he felt his coat warm his bones in a loving way.

He quickly drank the whiskey and offered Duffy to pour him more. “They follow me because I’m just to damn sexy. You know how it goes. Everyone wants a piece of the Jensen. Some more than others, like Lady Remi.” Both men laughed to that.

Jensen remained quiet again as things settled down. “I…I don’t know what you mean, honestly, Duffy. I can’t figure out why people follow me. I don’t want them to. The path I walk is destruction incarnate. Maybe it’s the paths I have walked that tempered me to look more leader like. Maybe it’s because they see in me the defiance of a man who will lead them to victory. Maybe people just think I’m crazy and that’s all they need. I don’t know, but in the end I never wanted any of it.”

Jensen looked to Duffy again, tapping his finger near the glass. “What’s on your mind, Duffy? You got a shit tone of worries in your head if your asking a jack ass like me for advice on how to lead men.” He laughed lightly. “And I’ll bet you when you tell me, we’ll find the answer your seeking.”

[Duffy]

"Soon, I will have to make a choice."

He let the words fall out like treacle ensconsing the calm of the canteen with sticky, dangerous sweetness. All he had worked for had come to one single decision, but he just could not make it on his own.

"Soon I will have to select someone to be a sacrifice, after I have made everyone suffer death once. I will have to die, to rekindle the fire in Ruby's heart. Lillith is already dead, Lucian's knife reclaiming his passionate sister in a simple stroke...Blank gave his own life twice, once for me, once for his mother, and he is left bereft of hunger for life and loam. One last decision remains - when the final hour is up, who shall don the artefacts of the Bard Wainwright Jones and be possessed by all his rage - who shall fall beneath his fury...?"

Duffy was sure Jensen was not so much of a fool then the image he gave. Hoping for understanding, he waited, twitching his fingers and thumbs like a nervous school child. How could Duffy give his own life after all his fighting...how could he give one of their's after he had lead them through wars?

"I want to know what it feels like to be a true hero...but I cannot. Selflessness is not within my heart any-more."

Duffy refilled their glasses with a mutual exchange and then sighed. "Will...you do it?"

The humour and the camaraderie that existed between the two captains of Sei's Ixian Knights snapped, and fell away. Duffy felt dizzy and sick, and tired of it all, but he had to gather all his allies in the Castle Dandra in three moons - there was no more time to earn Jensen's trust, no more time to prove his own worth to the enigmatic immortal...

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen sat in silence for a moment, gazing into Duffy’s eyes as the thespian began to turn his head away. He placed one hand on the smooth surface of the wooden table, touching the glass with his fingers before he retracted them back. He eyed Duffy again, looking for the joke, but when he noticed the man’s normal humor was entirely gone he had a haunting conclusion.

“Look me in the eyes, Duffy,” Jensen said in a soft voice. The troupe leader didn’t at first obey, and as he was about to look to Jensen the immortal barked. “LOOK AT ME!” Duffy did so, and years upon years of age seemed to visit the man’s face. Terrible burdens that bared his soul down like boulders dragged before his eyes, and the knight had no clue what to think of that. He looked to the amber liquid and somehow all the taste, the unique flavor, was missing now. He looked back at Duffy, and chose his words with careful consideration.

“What the hell, man?” Jensen said darkly, his voice a low growl. Duffy made an attempt to talk, but the immortal shoved the glass back to him. “You planned this whole series of events just so you can sacrifice me? What the fuck kind of friend does that, Duffy?” Jensen peered in closer to the actor, his eyes narrowing in hostility.

“You became my friend just so you can ask me to die for you? Just like that? Because I have infinite retries in life you think you can come to me and ask me to die for your cause? To hell with you!” Jensen said stubbornly. “To hell with your prophecy, your group, your cucumber sandwiches and your damn…uh…damn..” Jensen floundered to add anything to the list, and swiped his hand in anger to move himself forward.

“I know I’m new to this friend thing, but I’m pretty sure friend’s don’t ask each other to die for them.” Jensen looked to Duffy and snorted turning his back on the man as he eyed the mirror on the wall. He looked to his reflection, and angrily turned his face away from it. “How can you sit there and ask me that?” Jensen asked, but he left his tone wanting, as if he didn’t want to hear the answer. Duffy again tried to talk, but Jensen continued on.

“I got a family now! I got Azza and Stephanie to think of!” Jensen thought about his life and Stephanie. “Jesus, how would I even break that news to her! Hey honey, how was your day? Oh fine, Duffy asked me to be a sacrificial goat today!” Jensen spat as he turned to look at Duffy. Yet when he saw the look on his face the immortal sighed in frustration.

“Shit Duffy,” Jensen cursed loudly, grabbing his hair and rubbing the back of his head. “This isn’t how a hero acts, nor a leader. A leader does the shit that has to be done, even when he doesn’t want to do it…” Jensen stressed. Yet the idea and the words sounded so unnatural to Jensen and he shook his head.

The two sat in secluded silence as Jensen thought about the favor. He thought long and hard, and eventually he came up with a conclusion. He stood before Duffy and looked to him with dark set eyes, showing he wasn’t joking around either. Jensen kicked his chair over to him, scraping it against the floor as it dragged. He sat in front of Duffy and closed his eyes for a second before he opened them. “Crap, Duffy, I’m not sure what to make of this,” Jensen admitted. “What’s the full story? Who is this Lucian guy anyway, and why does your group have such a hard on for stopping him?”

[Duffy]

Duffy slumped with the sort of motion that a deflating balloon would make. Without thinking, he pulled out a small glass orb from his pocket and stared at it intently as he turned it left, then right, then left. Did he really want to tell Jensen about Lucian? He guessed the more the man knew, the empathic to the cause he might become - the more appreciative of his plight and dilemma.

"Lucian...is me."

He realised how erroneous a statement that was.

"Or at least, I am a part of Lucian. We all are, the Tantalum, fragments of the Greatest Bard's dichotomy. This tale begins five centuries ago, in the middle of March on a day we now call Lucian's Call. An elf by birth, Wainwright Jones was an aristocrat's son who was tired of the noble life, of balls and stiffness and itchy lapels. He began to read plays and indulge in theatrical notions, and learnt the ways of the stage."

It was that first spark of belief and enjoyment in Scara Brae that gave birth to the Tantalum. "He gathered friends and like minded individuals together to put on a play, and time took it's toll and the Tantalum was formed." Duffy remembered the first time he heard this tale, from Lucian's mouth itself in the catacombs beneath the city. He had been mesmerised.

"The Thayne Tantalus came into being shortly after, a minor deity compared to Yedda or Nijal, but potent all the same. Wainwright's disciples awoke to The Aria and gained their infamy...but as time progressed, Wainwright became adamant that he was the best, that he should get more power and reverence from his god...when he challenged Tantalus, and Tantalus did not answer, he scorned the Thayne and turned his back on the cult, which is all we are - fake pupils of occult reconsignment..."

It never ceased to amuse Ruby how much Duffy had become like Lucian. They both sacrificed themselves to prove their bitter and stubborn point, the only difference was, Duffy had never had the courage to step up himself. In that small way, he admired Wainwright, and everything he had done, even if it's intent was so horrifying.

"Wainwright became so corrupted by his own greed and narcissistic talent he dredged the troupe through the gutter, slept around, drank, fought, turned the city guards against us which still remains, and then he felt Tantalus's revenge at last...the Thayne created Celia, the most beautiful violinist in the world."

Duffy kept one small secret back, at least for now. Celia, through the ages, had had many faces, but none so familiar, beautiful and talented as the one she had now...with red feathers and rosy cheeks.

"When Celia grew tired of his ways, and left him, Wainwright became Lucian, refusing to give up his title and to be accepted as anything other than a mortal god. The natural succession of the Tantalum title to a disciple failed, and although my predecessors did they best they could...we have never truly been as we once were before he fell into shadow. He split into six wraiths, reflecting the six sins of the stage, and remains to this day on a path to vengeance."

"We are his characters, born of his ideals, part of his memories bound into existence by The Aria and the sleeping memory of Tantalus, who remains dead in the silver sea, trapped and corrupted and contained by Lucian's power."

Duffy realised he had been talking for far too long, and Jensen's attention span needed a little jolt. He downed his whiskey and let the fire slide down his oesophagus, before refilling both crystal and nostrils with the aroma. "When Lucian dies, there is every chance we too shall pass on. I ask you not only because you are immortal, but because only a man with a pure and untainted heart can re-unify the six wraiths and bring Wainwright back..."

If Ruby knew he had even considered trying to save Wainwright, after all the pain he had caused, he doubted he would keep his testicles for long. But all the while, he longed to see the purity of a mind that had created him...he wanted, in a weird and wonderful way, to meet the father he never had, the parent he always dreamed of...

He was Lysander.

He was Duffy.

He was Wainwright's first stage hand Defoe.

He was a lost boy eternally denied kinship and love...

But he would do anything to save the world that had given him so much instead.

"And so it is said...that with Lucian's death...the Tantalum will be restored, I will retain The Aria, and the troupe will enter a golden age of theatre...with Tantalus slowly crawling out from his cage to join his brothers in the realms of heaven. If we do not do this...if we do not offer ourselves without a thought, Scara Brae will fall into the sea, and Lucian will be able to walk unhindered across all of Althanas..."

"But enough with the theatrics and the drama...this sphere, is but one part of the offer, it conceals you in darkness and obscures you from the world...I can't pay you...I can't bribe you...I can't beg you...I can merely ask, and offer you this as a small part of reconciliation..." he holds it out to Jensen with a keen smile, and cocks his head to one side. "There is still so much more to my tale, but I wish to hear yours...take, brother, fellow immortal, and lover of fine women - and tell me how you defy death itself?"

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen listened to the man’s story, and while it seemed so far fetched and utterly ridiculous, he had admitted he was a bit mesmerized by the tale of Wainwright and the gods. There was much to the story that Jensen wanted to learn more about, to hear and listen. But that had to be for another time and place. When his brother had asked about Jensen’s tale, he remained silent and looked to his whiskey glass.

“I’m no where drunk enough to tell you that!” Jensen joked, and Duffy chuckled with him, letting a bit of the tension of the seriousness waft away. He felt the fire water drown down his gullet and he took a larger gulp than he intended. He hated his past, he truly did, but he supposed nobody really did in the army of Sei Orlouge. William had his dark beginnings, Cassandra had her birth in blood, and Jensen had his frozen youth to remind him of those darker times.

“Immortality is an accursed thing,” Jensen mumbled loudly. “It’s no blessing, and by the gods I wish I could die. I want nothing more than the eternal slumber and it’s a foolish notion to ever dream for it!” Jensen spat, but when he realized his humors were getting the best of him he shook his head and sat.

“Stephanie heard this story, and as far as I know she’s the only one who heard it. It isn’t an explanation of my immortality, because frankly, I just don’t know why I can live forever while I watch everyone die around me.” Jensen hesitated before he spoke, and then with a swift motion he took off his coat and opened it so the inner back could be seen. “Denzel Vermillion, Chanelle Kim-Hotep, Miguel Sanchez,” Jensen said each name with reverence, a reverence he had never offered anybody in his life, including the woman he loved. He looked to Duffy and the actor observed the lovingly stitched names that had been tended to over years of time.

“Those were my best friends and we did everything together. Denzel and I trained hard, Miguel and I goofed off on a lazy summer day, and Chanelle and I talked for all hours of the night, almost every night. It seemed like the Horsemen favored us when we all were assigned on a mission. While it was a success, the trip home might as well been failure…” Jensen carefully lowered his coat. “It was so cold, that winter. Our fortress home, Death’s Cradle, was located deep in the winter lands of Salvar. We trekked for six days with little supplies and nothing more than a blanket and our winter gear to keep us warm. Our Senior officer detached to us, as we were only teenagers at the time, had died while killing our target.”

Jensen remained very quiet as he looked to his jacket, feeling the warmth from the fabric as he began to let his lip quiver. “We stopped at this, this, rock and we had to make camp or die. We tried to get a fire going, but the wind just knocked it out…” Jensen shivered, remembering that wind as he lifted one leg to his chest and held his knee tightly. “Denzel was in charge, and he ordered me on the end of the human blanket. We all huddled for warmth like mice and I was couldn’t stop shivering,” Jensen’s body convulsed as he felt a few tears drip down his cheek. As he spoke, his tone got bitterer, and bitterer.

“I was so cold I couldn’t even sleep! My teeth wouldn’t stop chattering and I at last Chanelle lifted herself up and smiled to me, this beautiful heart warming smile and she switched places with me. The warmest seat in the house, and she gave it to me,” Jensen snarled as he recalled selfishly moving into position. He didn’t speak for several moments, as more and more tears fell down his face.

“They died…” Jensen whispered at last. His lips continued to shake as he took several deep breaths to steady himself. “They died because I was such a coward…They all kept me warm, and because of that, they died and I lived…” Jensen looked down upon his coat, and he angrily swiped the tears away.

“Fucking bawling like a baby,” Jensen chided himself in front of his brother. “Damn shameful,” He muttered. Duffy just sipped his whiskey as Jensen pulled himself together. After several minutes of waiting he slowly began to talk again. “I should have died that day. I keep wondering to myself; was that it? Was that the day I was supposed to die? Because I lived, did that start the curse of my immortality? I watched my best friends die in front of my eyes, and I am cursed to watch many more die…” Jensen sat as the two looked to each other.

“I…I don’t want to watch another friend die, Duffy,” Jensen whispered fearfully. “But I know one day it will happen again, but by the gods I don’t want it to ever be the same way I watched my first brother,” Jensen lovingly stroked Denzel’s name. “My first girlfriend,” He tapped Chanelle’s name. “And my first best friend went.” Jensen let his fingers brush off Miguel’s name. With a defiant gesture he tossed the jacket up in the air, and with practiced motions he slipped it on and extended his hand out to Duffy.

“I refuse to stand by and watch another friend die!” Jensen said with earnest intent. “I’ll do it, Duffy, cause you are my brother, and I swore I would never let another friend die before my eyes again.” Jensen smiled. “Though I should probably change that rule, as eventually you will kick the bucket, but that’s for another time!” Jensen laughed bringing levity to the situation again. “So long as I live, Duffy, I will fight by your side in any capacity I am able.” He poured the man a drink and lifted his own glass, slamming his drink into the actor’s breaking the tips of the glass.

“Hurry and drink it, you sod!” Jensen laughed as he cut his lip quickly drinking the whiskey.

[Duffy]

Those were the exact words Duffy wanted, nay, longed to hear, and he heard them well.

"Amen," he chirped in response to Jensen's brotherly command to drink yet more liquor whilst disregarding the consequences of seeing the plucky thief drunk and trying to ramble his way into somebody's knickers. It had taken him several months to learn the art of 'pretending' to be inebriated, but even his talent couldn't contain his faculties beneath the sodden wave of whiskey.

"I guess that's a deal," he leant forwards and pushed himself from the edge of the table. "May our tales be secrets, and our promises lies, or summat like that," he gestured towards the cafeteria's exit and promptly made for it.

Jensen's tale swung like a pendulum at the back of his mind, but he tried to push it aside to reflect on it when he was more able, and less inebriated to do so. Duffy had loved and lost, but he could not begin to imagine what it must have been like to watch the world age all around you and crumble to dust whilst you remained as ever repugnant and annoyingly good looking as ever.

He thinks it's a curse, too!

"Now if ya quite finished maudlin' for memories, I do believe there's a play to put on!" Without thinking where he was going, Duffy made for the newly installed costume room he had insisted Sei allow him to bring from Scara Brae so that he and the troupe could entertain the Knights with Impromptu performances and livery. He had a rather fetching pink dress in mind for Jensen, and a lovely doublet with hearts for himself; together, they would re-enact the many flamboyant heroes of time, the ones befitting of their stature at least.

He stumbled into the corridor and started to hop, limbering up for the start of yet another fantastic adventure.

And so it is said, that friends are born only to die in one another's arms.

And so it is said, that through such sacrifices, myths are made.

[MetalDrago]

STORY ~

Continuity (6/10) ~

Setting (5/10) ~

Pacing (6/10) ~

CHARACTER ~

Dialogue (7/10) ~

Action (7/10) ~

Persona (7/10) ~

WRITING STYLE ~

Mechanics (6/10) ~

Technique (6/10) ~

Clarity (6/10) ~

Wild Card (6/10) ~

Overall Score - 62/100

Duffy Bracken Receives 2000 EXP and 200 GP (after subtracting the Tantalum's take)
Enigmatic Immortal Receives 2000 EXP and 225 GP

[Silence Sei]

Exp-GP added.

Duffy leveled up. Hooray for him.