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Post by starrea on Apr 29, 2021 20:10:40 GMT
"Boone, I'm headed to your room to wash up!"
Boone hadn't gotten much of a head start but it was hard to tell exactly where he was or where he was headed with his dimmed senses. It was reasonable to assume that Boone was already headed back to his room, but if he hadn't been, then Jude's announcement was sure to change his course. If nothing else, Boone was predictable and he valued privacy and discretion above all. Just the very thought of Jude lingering outside of his door unsupervised was probably enough to put him on edge, and Jude was counting on that. Boone had never invited him into his room before but Jude was done waiting for an invitation. If there was one thing he was good at it, it was blatantly ignoring all social cues and inviting himself into somewhere he wasn't wanted regardless.
Getting into Boone's room was turning out to be the thirteenth labor of Hercules. All offers, ideas, and even pleas (even the completely platonic and chaste suggestions) were always immediately rebuked with no explanation. At first, Jude had resorted to dropping subtle hints, and when that didn't work, not-so-subtle hints. The more Boone resisted, the more it piqued Jude's interest, and it became a challenge of the wills. So far, Boone was an unmovable force, but not forever - water cut through rock not with strength, but rather persistence. Not-so-subtle hints eventually devolved into relentless teasing, questioning what skeletons could possibly be hiding in Boone's closet (literally). When he got desperate, one day he even asked Bellamy about Boone's mythical room, but the last time Bellamy had seen Boone's bedroom was when they shared one.
Not all of Jude's intentions were mischievous. His piece-of-shit studio apartment across the street didn't have a bath or facilities to clean himself, which meant that Jude had use communal bath houses or someone's private quarters. Boone knew that, too; while Jude hadn't been inside of Boone's room once, Boone was a regular to all of Jude's erotic showcases. Unlike most other members, Jude had opted to rent an apartment across the street - a two minute walk away, and a blessing to everyone. Living in a community style bunker had really cramped his style; he couldn't entertain his one-night stands and his recreational drug use was frowned upon. So even though his apartment was not much better than a tent pitched out in the yard, it was somewhere that he could exist freely. The problem was that when he wasn't indulging himself in his more nefarious and pleasurable habits, his apartment really sucked. The roof leaked and it couldn't hold heat, had no bath, and besides the basic amenities and furniture, had no personal touches or homely decorations. So unless Jude was entertaining, Jude rarely spent any time in his apartment.
Even though Jude had an open-door policy when it came to Boone's voyeurism, Boone never stayed. By the time Jude caught his breath, Boone was already gone and no matter how much he tried to make sense of it, something about that really bothered him - which was mighty hypocritical, because that was exact same thing Jude did. The easiest explanation was the most obvious; Jude's apartment was definitely beneath Boone's standards of living, but Boone wouldn't have that excuse in his own room. Maybe it was feeling Boone's skin beneath him that made him extra tenacious right now, but he was feeling delightfully optimistic about his chances. When it came down to the moment, Boone couldn't say no to him.
Jude skipped down the stairs, descending into the bunker beneath the ancient, run-down house. It was a minor miracle the house was still standing; it looked like it was just one strong gust of wind away from being a pile of rubble, but it hid the main entrance to the bunker well. The bunker was a mix of everything; living quarters for the families of Paragon, a safe haven for those victimized by supernatural destruction, an education center, a medical center, research quarters, and a business center. The bunker was a lot larger than Jude had initially thought, with numerous floors descending deep down into the ground, but Jude didn't have the clearance or interest to explore much of it. He only really socialized on the top floor, where most of the living quarters were, and rarely had the clearance to venture any deeper into the maze.
"Almost there!" Jude called out into the void, knowing that loudly announcing his plans to go into Boone's room would only provoke him.
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Post by Val on May 6, 2021 1:52:05 GMT
Boone emerged from the decrepit building with a sense of purpose, already running through his lengthy to-do list for the day. Now that Reidna and Bellamy had their latest subjects under control, it was Boone’s responsibility to make sure the rest of the pieces fell into place, like an intricate game of chess where the pawns were real, living people. Keeping tabs on key individuals across the kingdom and beyond was no easy task, but Boone had been doing the job for his entire life and his experience was evident by his near perfect record in making sure their goals were met. Fortunately, he enjoyed his profession, and that made it far easier to stay focused day in and day out with minimal time for leisure.
Speaking of…the first item on his list just happened to be the embodiment of leisure himself: Jude. He needed to speak with Jude, and not just because he had showed up today uninvited and invaded his personal space. Aside from giving him a well deserved reprimand, Boone also had an important assignment for the wayfaring contractor. As unreliable as Jude tended to be, he had an indispensable talent for scoping unique people out that Boone greedily made use of- among other such…talents. In return, Boone offered his fleeting attention as payment. So far, that seemed to satiate Jude’s apparent fascination with him, but the man grew bolder each day with how he chose to disrupt Boone’s meticulous lifestyle.
As he meandered slowly down the road waiting for Jude to catch up, the unexpected announcement shattered his train of thought into a million scattered pieces. He halted and turned to watch as Jude beelined in the direction of the base, leaving Boone to decide whether or not to follow. He wasn’t planning on heading back to his room; in fact, he had intended on making the interaction between them quick and professional, but Jude’s intentions were always the opposite of his own. He considered leaving Jude standing hopelessly at his locked door like a puppy waiting to be let inside, but the assignment he had for the man was important, and time was of the essence.
Jude would probably flatter himself over the fact that Boone stopped in his tracks and wordlessly changed course, following the path to the bunker. He allowed the ripple in his plans to flow past him, and simply added the little detour into his schedule with reluctance. Considering that Jude had an ego that was larger than life, he’d likely interpret Boone’s compliance as a chip in his armor and dig his claws in while he had the chance. Unfortunately for Jude, Boone had no desire to change the dynamic between them. While Jude seemed to find their forced game of cat and mouse to be enjoyable, Boone found it all rather irritating.
Boone waited until he saw Jude disappear into the hidden bunker before he followed. There were multiple entrances to the system of subterranean tunnels and architecture, but this one was among the most discrete and most used by Boone himself. And, of course, it was the closest to Jude’s modest residence that he frequented in the dead of night.
Descending into the intricate abyss that was the Paragon’s base, he tailed Jude all the way to his living quarters. He narrowed his eyes in response to the blatant taunt, wondering if the man realized how close he actually was. He had a natural curiosity about the features and limitations of people’s abilities, especially Jude’s. Understanding and documenting such details was important to his research, but Boone didn’t like to pry for answers- he liked to discover them in his own unique ways.
“Turn around and face the wall with your hands over your eyes,” Boone’s rich voice broke the silence of the otherwise empty hallway. He paused and waited for Jude to comply before turning to his door. An impressive padlock kept the door to his apartment securely locked, with a password known only by him. The extra security wasn’t just a personal preference for privacy; it was necessary to protect the classified intel that laid within. He couldn’t very well block the code with his invisible body, so it was important to make sure Jude’s eyes were elsewhere as he entered the combination and unlocked the door.
As momentous as the occasion perhaps was for both of them, Boone didn’t make a big deal over his decision to allow Jude inside. The man could read into it all he wanted, but Boone would continue to tell himself it was all for the sake of convenience. Denial was easy when one's discomfort and hesitancy were invisible to the naked eye. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside and waited for Jude to follow before abruptly locking the door behind him.
The main living area was teeming with interesting items, and yet was meticulously neat. Everything had it’s place and purpose in the room, and Boone took great care to keep it that way. A small kitchen spilled into a comfortable living area, lined on all sides by shelves that were stacked full of identical black, leather bound notebooks with carefully printed labels on the spine of each one. The least confidential of his documentations lived in this room- generally focused on common knowledge, such as the history and geography of the region. On the farthest wall of the room, an extensive floor to ceiling map of the realm dominated the room, hand drawn by yours truly in dark graphite. A slow burning fire place bathed the area in warm light that spilled over into a single hallway that branched off into three separate rooms; one was his bedroom, one was his bathroom, and one- restricted by an even more formidable set of locks than the front door - was his study.
“You’re wasteful,” he noted, brushing past Jude to stand in the center of the room, “Are you out?” he questioned, clearly referring to Jude’s supply of suppressants. He was almost positive that Jude would be running low on his little concoction by now, and that just simply wouldn’t do. Boone had no interest in being around someone who quite literally sucked the energy out of him. It was irresponsible to expose himself to such a weakness, especially since it was near impossible for him to maintain his invisibility when Jude was at his strongest. While Jude usually followed the rules when it came to taking doses of the rare mixture, showing up uninvited like he did today frustrated Boone. As the supplier of said medicine, Boone had to keep tabs on the man’s usage. Jude had learned by now that not taking the suppressants meant no Boone. But it was a two way street, and Boone had also come to learn that running out of the medicine meant no Jude for him either.
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Post by starrea on May 15, 2021 23:19:39 GMT
It worked. Even when suppressed, Jude could faintly feel the presence of Boone shadowing him. At first, he had found it ironic that his natural state was so conflicting with Boone's abilities. No matter what happened between them, Jude relished in the fact that he had inherent power over Boone. But then it got significantly less amusing when Boone demanded that he drink blood. Jude was reluctant to level the playing field and he liked knowing where all the powerful players, not just Boone, were on the board were. At first, not even the appeal of Boone had been enough for him to agree to consistently lowering his only form of defense. The request had triggered a massive panic attack, leaving Jude holed up in his piece-of-shit apartment for six days before hunger overcame anxiety. He had played off his anxieties as nothing more than superficial repulsiveness of the ultimatum, but the truth was that it ran much deeper than that. Of course, he never revealed any of that to Boone and eventually, his desire to indulge overcame his anxieties and each time he drank, it got a little bit easier. Now, the situation was just dreadfully unfortunate and inconvenient. The consumption of blood felt wildly unsanitary and for the first time since the incident, Jude sometimes wished he could turn that part of himself off.
For something so significant and pivotal in their dynamic, the moment was disappointingly anticlimactic but Jude wasn't surprised. He knew it was a ploy - Boone never liked to feed in Jude's antics, always downplaying the significance of whatever happened. But whether or not Boone wanted to admit it, this was significant - as far as anyone knew, Boone had never let anyone else into his room. So Jude accepted this win for what it was; it simply wasn't in Boone's nature to make fuss and if Boone needed to assert his control by making this seem meaningless, then so be it.
Jude wasted no time in spinning around to face the wall and cover his eyes. He knew that Boone had a treasure trove of secrets behind those locks, but Jude was not interested in any of them. He was shamelessly upfront about his wants, and truthfully, he didn't want to be in Boone's quarters unless he was wanted there. Excitement fluttered in the pit of his stomach before it traveled lower, evolving into the slow-burning heat of arousal. So far, much to Jude's dismay, their sexual interactions had been hands-off. And while Jude loved to perform and loved Boone watching, he was itching to feel Boone beneath his fingers and explore the man that rarely allowed himself to be seen. So when Boone finally invited him inside, Jude shamelessly spun around so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash.
"Holy shit, you've been holding out on me. Why the fuck don't we meet here?" Jude blurted out, taken aback by how nice Boone's place was. In retrospect, he wasn't really surprised because he couldn't imagine Boone living in anything less, but it was another thing altogether to see Boone's posh lifestyle for himself. He took a minute to leisurely stroll around the open space, eyeing the different odds and ends that Boone had with passing interest. The interior design was very... Boone. Jude was sure that there was probably some psychology book among the stacks that explained the significance of how and why every single aspect of Boone's living space was a direct and unapologetic reflection of his personality but he never learned well from reading - Jude was a hands-on learner.
"I don't consider this a waste," Jude said with a casual shrug, looking in Boone's direction. It was helpful that even suppressed, he could at least tell the general direction Boone was in. He shrugged again, "That all depends on how much you want me to drink tonight," He added with a suggestive smile before turning, returning to his aimless exploration of Boone's apartment. He stopped in front of the hand-drawn map, pretending to admire it while his thoughts strayed back towards Boone. He wanted him to reveal himself but he knew that as soon as he asked, Boone would refuse.
Instead on dwelling on Boone's stubborn invisibility, Jude remembered that he had come here with a purpose in mind. Without warning, Jude peeled his shirt off and dropped it to the ground. His shorts and boxers were next and he kicked them to the side. He turned back to him, shamelessly displaying his arousal for Boone to see.
"I need to wash up. Could you please show me to the bathroom?" Jude stepped towards Boone, eyes drifting down the hallway as he prepared to investigate where the three doors led.
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Post by Val on May 28, 2021 2:17:42 GMT
Boone’s watchful eyes followed Jude’s every move as he perused the living room. It was strange to see someone maneuvering through his private quarters, observing his curated collection of items and knowledge. Jude wasn’t necessarily the first person to enter his home, but he was certainly the first in a very long while. Naturally, Boone was wary. He knew from experience that offering someone like Jude an inch would eventually lead to him expecting a mile.
“We don’t meet anywhere,” he reminded Jude pointedly. As far as Boone was concerned, he showed up to their little rendezvous when he felt like it. Jude didn’t exactly have an equal say in the matter, and the man knew well enough not to go spouting off about the invisible man who watched him fuck. The less the public was aware of him, the better. Their arrangement relied upon following a strict set of rules, created by Boone of course. He had been reasonable in the beginning, only enforcing what was necessary to avoid impacting his professional life. Over time, things were added to accommodate his more personal issues. But now…well, he found a bit of sick pleasure in watching Jude deflate under his constant rejection.
Even though his facial expressions weren’t visible, Boone couldn’t help but raise a brow in response to Jude’s casual argument. Not a waste? Perhaps he was right; this meeting was necessary, after all. The true waste would be falling for Jude’s cheeky smile and agreeing to the evening invitation. Before he had a chance to object, Jude suddenly began tearing his clothes off in the midst of his neat living room. He pressed his lips together impatiently and waited until Jude was completely undressed before his eyes dropped shamelessly to the man’s persistent erection on full display.
A deep chuckle rumbled in Boone’s throat. He knew first hand how humiliating it was to hear someone laugh in response to your nudity, but he couldn’t help himself. His twisted sense of humor, combined with his internal resentment of Jude’s ability to be aroused so easily, made it so he simply couldn’t resist. Besides, Jude didn’t have a self conscious bone in his body, or so Boone thought.
“Tonight won’t be necessary,” Boone uttered dismissively once his amusement had faded. Tempting as it was, he’d already wasted far too much of his day catering to Jude’s distracting shenanigans. Jude wasn’t the only individual to maintain Boone’s interest; he had plenty of other, less salacious diversions in need of attention.
“Come.” As he spoke the quiet command, he turned and made his way down the hall. Boone didn’t bother addressing the heavily secured door on the left, instead proceeding swiftly to the door at the end of the hall. He pushed his way into the bathroom, a spacious area built floor to ceiling with white stone. Tall mirrors lined the back wall and a large tub dominated the center of the room, just begging for someone to sink into its soothing depths. Boone wasted no time and turning on the faucets and providing soap, keen on having Jude touch the least amount of his things as possible. As the tub began to fill, he crossed the room to a small closet where a few sets of clothes were folded neatly on the shelves. He slipped on a pair of loose fitting silk pants and long sleeved shirt, the shape of his tall frame slowly materializing as he dressed himself. When he turned back around to face Jude, he gestured toward the tub, aware that at least the sleeve of his shirt would provide direction, “Go on.”
Boone lowered himself into a chair in the corner of the room, his aching feet longing to partake in the soak as he waited for Jude to settle in. His skin acted like armor- a weak one at that, but armor nonetheless. It provided him with enough extra strength to endure traveling barefoot for great distances, where others would likely find their feet torn to shreds. An adaption, he supposed, though it was hardly impressive in comparison to some of the mutations he’d witnessed first hand. Alas, being mediocre had it’s advantages. Possessing great power was the easiest way to put a target on your back. Flying under the radar is how they’d made progress as an organization, and how he remained at the top of the food chain.
“Remember how we talked about keeping a low profile?” His train of thought manifested into spoken words as he addressed Jude, “How’s that going for you?” he questioned, his tone wavering between teasing and disapproving. He knew that it was in Jude’s nature to be seen, just like it was in his nature to hide. Nevertheless, Boone always had good reason to reiterate his warning. Even he was willing to admit that he was concerned for Jude’s safety at times. With the ability to strip power from those who possessed it, Jude was not just an irritating presence- he was a threat.
“If you need more doses, say the word, and I will make it happen.” His calming tone made it easy to forget that he was discussing the consumption human blood as casually as one might consider dinner plans.
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Post by starrea on Jun 2, 2021 20:04:56 GMT
Whatever was between Jude and Boone wasn't good. It wasn't virtuous or honorable or respectable. They were both deeply selfish beings, filthy, immoral creatures, using each other to satisfy dark, erotic needs. So when Boone's rich laugh filled the empty space of his apartment, Jude wasn't surprised. He wasn't sure whether Boone meant for the laugh to be malicious or not - Boone's social skills left something to be desired - but either way, it didn't bother Jude. He had thick skin and not a self-conscious bone in his body, especially when he felt Boone's eyes on him night after night as he fucked one stranger after another.
If Jude hadn't been expecting Boone's rejection, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he wordlessly followed Boone into his bathroom. Jude was immediately drawn to the tall mirrors on the back wall and he sauntered over to them, but it wasn't his own reflection that piqued his interest. For someone who didn't like to be seen, Jude was surprised to see mirrors take up nearly an entire wall. The sound of running water caught his attention and when he spun around, he couldn't hide his shock when he saw indoor plumbing. Indoor plumbing was a relatively new development and reserved for only the rich, royal, and elite. Jude, personally, had never seen something as rare and exclusive as indoor plumbing and he was transfixed as the tub steadily filled with hot water. He was uncharacteristically silent as the tub filled, unused to the slight nagging in the back of his mind that insisted he wasn't good enough for both this tub and Boone.
With Boone's permission, Jude wasted no time in sinking into the hot water. He had never experienced such luxury; heated water, a deep, spacious tub, and Boone's watchful eyes. He draped his arms over the back of the tub, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he felt the tension seep out of him. His erection was still plainly visible beneath the water, but Jude made no moves to either conceal it nor take care of it, even though the thought of Boone watching him masturbate tortured him.
"Why don't you get in with me? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." Jude couldn't help himself - he was a masochist, addicted to the way Boone always left him wanting more.
Despite all the evidence that pointed to the contrary, Jude was actually an incredibly private person. His innate ability to neutralize mutations wasn't the only reason he often found himself on the wrong side of someone's poorly-controlled temper. His promiscuous lifestyle, as pleasurable as it was, was an inevitable invitation for drama. Whether it be some scorned ex-lover or the husband Jude didn't know about or the batshit crazy girlfriend of the man he had just fucked, there was an endless amount of people who wanted to beat the shit out of him. Boone only ever saw whatever dirty showcase Jude starred in for him, but he was never there to witness Jude getting dragged into a back alley by four other men and beaten until unconscious. He never witnessed the punches, slaps, kicks, or the bruises they left. He never dealt with the stalking or harassment and never questioned why there seemed to be a new lock installed on Jude's shitty front door every two or three weeks. If Boone had any suspicions as to why Jude's door was inexplicably locked or why he disappeared for days at time, he never brought them up. And Jude was perfectly happy with that arrangement. Their relationship only went as deep as their filthiest sexual fantasies, an illusion that was threatened every time Boone tried to casually check in with Jude.
Boone's worries about Jude and how supposedly threatening he was when at his strongest were hardly warranted. Since his acquisition into Paragon, Boone was almost obsessive about making sure that Jude was never at full strength. The doses lasted about twenty-four hours but by the twentieth hour or so, Jude was strong enough to nearly force Boone back to visibility if he was within a half-mile radius. So per Boone's instructions, he usually took another shot every twelve or so hours - enough to almost completely nullify his abilities indefinitely. Every now and then, when his paranoia and anxiety got too loud, Jude willfully let his doses completely run out. Everyone within a two-mile radius felt the effects of Jude's neutralization, but his ability to detect mutations extended much farther than that. These episodes were never long; someone always tracked him down within fifteen or so minutes with a small vial, a gift from Boone. But for the most part, he was obedient and took his doses like he supposed to so even when he did run out, it was so infrequent that there was no way it could logically be linked back to Jude. There had been a handful of times that Jude had been too drunk to remember to take his dose at the correct time and as his strength increased, a couple of people had started to piece together what Jude could do. But those interactions didn't go anywhere except to the alley behind the bar to beat Jude's face in.
"Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy," Jude said casually, purposefully vague, and didn't even bothering to open his eyes as he sunk into the hot water as he swallowed down his irritation at Boone's not-so-subtle worries. Just because he was compliant with taking the doses didn't erase the anxiety that came with being blind and vulnerable to superhuman abilities. Sometimes, he hated those doses so much that he fantasized about disappearing into the wilderness where no one could tell him what to do. But in the end, Jude was a slave to his desires and as much as he loved it, he also hated how he couldn't seem to let go of Boone. "I only have a couple of days left. Maybe two or three, depending on how much I take," Jude finally conceded, knowing that sometime within the next twenty-four hours, another two or so weeks worth of doses would wordlessly appear in his apartment.
"So how many secrets do you have about me locked up behind that door?" Jude asked nonchalantly, finally opening his eyes to look at the loose shirt and pants that didn't have a body. The question, unprompted, was uncharacteristic for Jude - who was careful to always maintain emotional distance between him and Boone. He never pushed Boone for answers he didn't want to give or about any of the top-secret work he did, completely uninterested in the trove of secrets he amassed. If their conversations strayed beyond the topic of their extracurricular activities, then the subject was usually superficial and trivial. The question wasn't so innocent; it was a subtle dig, a reminder that despite their vulgar arrangement, Boone didn't know that much about Jude. Even though he couldn't possibly know what secrets Boone hid behind that locked door, Jude was confident that none of them pertained to him.
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Post by Val on Jul 15, 2021 23:26:39 GMT
Two or three? Boone fixated on the absurdly low number of days he was given in advance to gather the necessary resources. Jude made it sound easy, and perhaps Boone made it seem easy, but it wasn’t. Cursed blood was a scarce commodity, and Jude certainly wasn’t the only customer. Like most things of great value, Boone did his damnedest to keep the secrets surrounding their special concoction close to the chest. Unfortunately, word had begun to spread amongst the underbelly of society. All it took was one set of loose lips to let it slip before all the seedy entrepreneurs caught wind of such a significant breakthrough in the control of magic. Once the notorious Sahara Desmereux came knocking, Boone had been forced to crack down on the rumors for good. Unfortunately, even in death the woman’s empire remained strong, and the damage had already been done. Despite his best efforts, people knew about cursed blood, and they inevitably wanted to obtain the power it held.
As Boone spiraled over his thoughts, he became distant from the conversation with Jude. He grabbed a small notebook from the end table beside his chair and flipped it open, using the charcoal pencil nestled inside to compose a note in his neat cursive handwriting. He needed to send word and gather a restock for Jude quickly, especially for the upcoming plans he had in store for the man. Although he undoubtedly had the most access in the kingdom to such a rarity, he was well aware that supplies were dwindling. Not long ago, Boone had planned on taking Van Dam into custody despite the repercussions of kidnapping someone with such visibility. That is until the man suddenly and unexpectedly garnered the ability to shift into his wolf form at will- making him even more of a ridiculous liability. Not even his father had managed to obtain such control over the beast.
Boone abruptly tore the page from the notebook and folded it neatly before slipping the piece of paper into his pocket. He made no mention of the whirlwind of stress that had just wreaked havoc on his thoughts. He preferred to maintain the illusion that he had everything under complete control- especially when it came to Jude. Boone closed the notebook with a soft thud and simultaneously appeared.
When it came to revealing himself, it had to be Boone’s way. That meant no preamble, no fuss, no excitement- simply invisible one second and visible the next. If one were to ask him to show himself, he’d likely refuse out of spite. The decision had to be done on his terms, and that was exactly what happened as he casually came to life- filling his clothes with flesh and bone. He took his time setting aside the notebook and leaning back in his armchair, aloof as ever as he all but ignored the naked man in his bath. Eventually, his eyes shifted upwards, but not toward Jude. Rather, he caught his own eyes in the mirrors that lined the back wall as though he were noticing a stranger that had entered the room. He stared for a split second longer than was natural before shifting his attention to Jude.
“They wouldn’t be secrets if I was aware of them, now would they?” he countered with a non-answer, his face a careful mask now that he had revealed himself. Boone had certainly dug for so-called secrets about Jude, but his efforts so far had been futile. He couldn’t spy on Jude quite like he did other people, and the man’s past remained a frustrating mystery. The only avenue he hadn’t taken- and refused to take- was taking the time to actually ask Jude about himself. It crossed an unspoken boundary between them, and Boone simply didn’t ask- he found such things out for himself.
“Anyway, it’s not your secrets I want,” Boone continued. He stood up from the chair and rose to his full height, staring down at Jude with an intensity that bordered unsettling. For someone with the ability to disappear, Boone himself was hard to miss. He was tall and sinewy- perhaps too tall- a feature that often made him appear more ghostly when his disembodied voice came from above. Although he and Bellamy shared many unique characteristics from their unmistakable pale colored hair to their severe grey eyes, it was clear in the way that they carried themselves how opposite they truly were.
Boone approached the bathtub and lingered near the side where Jude’s feet rested, appearing to consider Jude’s invitation into the tub. Not. Eventually, he moved to sit on the edge of the tub, reaching for the untouched bar of soap he had laid out. He weighed it in his hand before tossing it toward Jude, where it plunged beneath the water and landed in his lap, “You wash, I’ll talk,” he insisted, offering no allusion to the responsibility he was about to dump onto Jude’s shoulders.
“Ever been in a castle, Jude?” He paused, though the question was clearly rhetorical, “They have rather nice baths, though perhaps not quite as nice as mine. But you can be the judge of that,” he continued, studying Jude to see when he would catch on, “You see, I need eyes in Raevaryn castle. Not just eyes…I need a mouthpiece- and you certainly have a mouth on you,” he mused with a twitch of his lips, “We’ve lost our connection to Raevaryn and, although that is being dealt with, we cannot afford to be blind to what is going on behind those walls. The King hasn’t been seen publicly in over a month, and it appears that his foreign mistress has taken the throne. Not to mention a recent…incident…that took place last week.” Although he remained vague, the distant look in his eyes alluded to said incident being more important than he was letting on. For good reason. He’d received word that a mercenary with a knack for night vision had lost his whole troop fulfilling a mission for the young Queen. It wasn’t the girl’s ruthlessness that caught his attention, but rather the description of the mysterious target. Needless to say, Boone made sure the rumors ended there by snuffing out the sole survivor and adding one more secret under his belt.
“You’re going to be my delegate, Jude. Introduce yourself to the Raevaryn elite, make yourself useful to them- I can provide you with anything you need. Make friends, fuck the Queen if you’d like, I don’t care. I just need you inside. Someone I can trust.” Boone ended the proposal as abruptly as it had begun and continued to stare at Jude, anticipating resistance to the plan he had laid out. If it was compensation that Jude would require, then Boone was willing to strike a deal- whatever that may be.
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Post by starrea on Jul 21, 2021 4:56:55 GMT
A queen? Now, that was something Jude could get behind - literally. It would be the ultimate conquest, the quintessential achievement for a sexual conqueror like himself. The queen was ethnic, native to a kingdom that repressed women, so Jude imagined that she had a couple of natural curiosities and with a guide like himself, he could show her a whole new world. And he would definitely enjoy the luxury that came with it. Good food, good company, and most importantly, good booze. But the fantasy only lasted a second or two, just long enough for Jude to picture himself behind the ethnic queen, before the reality of the request crushed any hope of that becoming a delicious reality. Jude closed his eyes, careful to remain impassive as he pretended to mull over the prestigious opportunity. It was an obvious and immediate no, but it was a sinfully tempting offer. Jude wordlessly let Boone brush past his lie, unconcerned with his steadfast denial of what they both knew to be untrue. There was no rush; a river didn't cut through rock with force, but rather persistence and only time would reveal just how persistent Jude could be. Boone's fantasy came to life behind Jude's closed eyes; Boone had painted a pretty picture for him, attentive to the fact that if anything was going to sway him, it would be life's sweetest indulgences. For someone with as little impulse control as Jude, he wrestled with the inherent desire to agree, to say yes. He would be lying if he said the allure of such luxury didn't entice him - especially given his current living situation. If anyone was born to enjoy and appreciate the luxuries of higher living, it was surely him. But alas, there were a million flaws with his plans that not even an mind-blowing fuck with an ethnic queen could make him budge. It would take nothing short of divine intervention to work his way up the social and political ranks of a kingdom he didn't know two shits about. Ignoring the fact that a job like that required all sorts of qualities that Jude didn't have, like dedication and diligence, but it also shouldered an insane amount of stress - and Jude didn't cope well under pressure. He had thick skin but that was inconsequential under the weight of pressure, and he cracked like an egg. Jude had spent years carefully cultivating a reputation as someone whose initiatives exclusively applied to the indulgence of life's many pleasures. Countless hours of work to ensure that when the need for someone arose, his name was the last on a long list of those not considered. Much to the organization's displeasure, it hadn't been their impassioned creed that had recruited Jude onto their team. If Jude wasn't with them, then he was against them - and he saw what happened to people against Paragon. But that still meant that over the years, there had been ample opportunity for growth and participation within the organization, and apparently, saying no wasn't really an option. Thus began the greatest con of Jude's life; selling himself as just selfish, irresponsible, and dimwitted enough to dissuade his participation in anything of even the slightest bit of importance. As it turned out, accepting and embracing the sinful, depraved parts of his nature wasn't just immensely freeing, but enough of an uncomfortable deterrent that his presence was hardly ever required anymore. His membership was more or less an unspoken agreement that as long as complied with the absolute bare minimum and stayed out of trouble and out of the way, he was free to exist under the protection of the large and powerful organization without all of the effort and hazards that came with most other positions. It took a surprising enough of finesse to walk the line between irresponsible and completely useless. Fortunately, his usefulness was an inherent part of himself, a piece of himself that he had no conscious control over. It gave him purpose without the hassle of expending any sort of effort into intellect or skill. All that was required was his physical presence, and as long as he could at the very least semi-reliably show up, then he maintained his usefulness. It had taken years of apathy, lack of direction, a revolving door of anonymous sexual partners, and half-baked comments to fully ease himself out of the spotlight of anything remotely real and important. His unapologetically confident openness towards sex and other taboos made most people uncomfortable enough to avoid unnecessary interactions with him, creating a safe buffer between him and any potential responsibility without appearing to purposefully avoid it. No one even bothered to try and have a real conversation with him anymore. When people thought of Jude, they thought of nothing more than a lazy, sexual deviant with no thought or drive for anything other than what got him off. And they were mostly right.
It was so easy to overlook that whatever was between them wasn't one-way - as if Jude could unravel the mystery of Boone without revealing any of his own ugly truths. But the reality was that when Jude stared at Boone, Boone stared right back at him. And Jude had no idea what Boone saw in him. Whatever it was, it was obviously more than a simple-minded, irresponsible sexual deviant. Jude's confident posture shrunk in on itself, his shoulders hunching as he leaned forward and used the guise of cleaning to hide from Boone's piercing stare. The pressure of the conversation was amplified by Boone's appearance, which seemed to only make his stare burn hotter on Jude's skin. He looked everywhere but at Boone, wondering how the hell Boone so quickly and so easily turned the tables on him. Jude didn't have the convenient ability to disappear before one's eyes. He needed more unconventional ways to hide but in this moment, he was too rattled to misdirect Boone's attention. His confidence wavered; how much did Boone really see?
Paranoia crept into the dark recesses of Jude's mind and a foreboding sense of trepidation slithered over his skin. His movements became quicker, rougher, anxious to scrub the feeling of little insects crawling over his skin away. It didn't work and Jude struggled to maintain the guise of relaxation but he could see the mask starting to slip off. If just the thought of being thrust into such a pivotal role was enough to trigger him, then sending him into the field would only result in a colossal disaster. Even though he had worked hard at pretending like there wasn't a reason as to why he had no ambition and no drive to be anything more than a poor, nameless sexual degenerate, there was a reason - and there wasn't enough compensation in the world to make Jude face it. His gaze flickered around the room, this time without any awe, and lingered on the shadows in the room for a couple of seconds too long. The luxurious room felt too small, too enclosed and Jude fought the urge to scratch at his skin. It's all in my head, Jude chanted, it isn't real. But the sense of trepidation didn't fade and he couldn't help but feel like Boone knew.
Trust. Jude openly balked at the t-word, feeling physically nausea at the weight of his request. Boone didn't give out such heartwarming sentiments lightly, so the task was even more enormous and stressful than he had anticipated. "You trust me? First I'm hearing of it," Jude quipped, trying to sound light but something bitter leaked into his tone. If the circumstances were different, Jude would have latched onto the empty sentiment and milked it for all its worth. But now, the proclamation wrapped around his throat and squeezed, choking him. The warm water was no longer soothing and Jude wasn't in the mood to feel Boone's eyes slowly dissect him into a million little pieces. "Thanks, but no thanks. The only person who should want me to stay the fuck away from that situation more than me is you. I don't cope well with that kind of pressure. So find someone else you trust, someone trained for that shit. But it sure as shit ain't going to be me." He shifted in the tub as he rinsed the suds off of himself, obviously uncomfortable. His boner was nothing more than a distant memory and he was starting to wish that he had never insisted on being let into Boone's home. The piss-poor bath he had just given himself felt like an insult to the majesty of a tub he sat in. He had barely washed himself but this conversation was too real and made him too anxious. He needed to create distance between them, distance that reminded both of them of how superficial this relationship was. He was stupid for thinking that he could look at Boone without being seen. There were parts of himself that he worked hard to bury and all it took was one uncomfortable conversation with Boone to remind him of everything he wanted to forget. Disappearing for a few days on a bender would be just the kind of reminder Boone needed that he wasn't capable of anything outside of the bedroom. He would have helped himself out of the tub but now, oh so conveniently, Boone was seated on the edge of the tub and directly in his way. "Are you going to move or do I have to ask politely?" Jude snapped, uncharacteristically irritated. He regretted the shot of blood he had taken half an hour ago. He was weak and vulnerable and defenseless. As long as Boone stayed a safe distance away, he wouldn't even be able to sense if he was being watched and right now, the thought of being watched was starting to make him physically sick. |
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Post by Val on Oct 10, 2021 23:13:13 GMT
Most people wouldn’t dare tell Boone no. He’d become quite accustomed to getting his way early on in life, being the favorite child of high-ranking individuals within the Paragon. But his entitlement stemmed from more than just mere birthright. Boone was a natural manipulator with a penchant for scaring people into doing whatever the hell he demanded. He wasn’t a leader- he was a dictator with the means and reputation to put anyone in their place. When it came to Jude, however, things got complicated. Jude wasn’t like most people, and that was perhaps the very reason Boone was so inexplicably intrigued by the man.
Unaccustomed to hiding his facial expressions, Boone’s anger read loud and clear. His brows turned inward, eyes narrowing and darkening the already prominent circles indicative of sleep deprivation beneath his eyes. It was an expression he made often, though it was usually invisible to the human eye. This time, Jude would witness his unmasked glare in all its glory.
To be fair, he had expected a rejection from Jude, though that did little to diminish his annoyance over the dismissive “no thanks”. It was insulting. Jude should have been grateful for the consideration, and the fact that Boone thought highly enough of him to even offer. Instead, his rare utterance of the word “trust” was thrown back in his face as though it were meaningless. A sense of embarrassment began to trickle into Boone’s subconscious, and he felt the urge to disappear before Jude noticed.
The reality of the situation dawned on Boone before his skin-shifting instincts took hold. Unfortunately for Jude, they were in his domain. He reveled in the shift in Jude’s demeanor as he went from relaxed to downright paranoid, squirming under his scrutinous gaze. Boone could sense his fear- potent and escalating. He latched onto the vulnerability like an opportunistic predator and prepared to go in for the kill.
“What are you afraid of?” The question was abrupt, and he let it hang in the air between them- a way of letting Jude know that he saw through him and was beginning to pinpoint the cracks in his usual façade.
Instead of waiting for some kind of response, Boone rose from the edge of the tub to oblige Jude’s rude request. He hoped the maneuver would alleviate some of the building tension and avoid any unnecessary drama, “No need to answer. I simply encourage you to reevaluate your answer before you leave here today.” He turned away and approached the closet, continuing the conversation calmly and with purpose, “I know you’re not as incompetent as you make yourself out to be. If you were, you’d have been dead a long time ago.” In fact, Boone would have ensured that such a liability was exterminated immediately. Instead, he had become fascinated by Jude, his mysterious ability, and the way he lived life.
“The problem is that I’ve allowed you to get too comfortable,” he noted, selecting a neatly folded towel from the linen closet, “You think you’ve fended for yourself all this time, without my protection? I’m not talking about the thugs who jump you for being an asshole. I’m talking about the people I take orders from, and those who wish to destroy us all.”
The gravity of Boone’s admission settled over the room, revealing the bigger picture that Jude likely never wanted to see. Boone felt no joy in bursting the bubble that he’d helped create and maintain over the years. It felt like he was dismantling one of the few parts of life he’d truly come to enjoy: living vicariously through Jude. But with the increasing number of threats on the horizon, he had no choice.
“If you refuse to be a productive member of this organization, then you will no longer be treated as such. You will become nothing more than an object- an asset to keep hidden away like the rest of them. Is that what you want?” He confronted Jude with the very real possibility of what his future could become. A prisoner, like all the other under their control. A weapon to be used when convenient.
Containment was always the easiest route, and Jude would have been no different. If he was locked away safely, no one would be able to get to him and abuse his power. Against all rationality, Boone had convinced his peers otherwise, and allowed his greatest weakness to roam free- an experiment of sorts, that had grown infinitely more complicated over time. The truth was that Jude’s mere presence could dictate the outcome of a war, and Boone intended to be on the winning side if it came down to it.
It was unlike Boone to take risks and leave loose ends, and now he was forced to reweigh his options for the sake of the organization- either lock Jude away or find a way to maintain his semblance of freedom. Jude refused to be placed in a suitable role where they could keep tabs on him, and Boone was quickly running out of viable options. With Jude trapped in his quarters, it would be so easy to escort him to an awaiting cell and be done with this. And yet, he found himself transfixed by the possibility of preserving Jude’s humanity. Not out of the kindness of his cold, lizard heart, but because of his selfish obsession with the one man who could force him to reveal himself.
Standing in the center of the bathroom, Boone unfolded the towel and extended it in offering to Jude, dangling it from his index finger between them. “Allow me to correct myself. I would like to be able to trust you. And I would like for you to be able to trust me. Tell me how we can make that possible, Jude.”
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Post by starrea on Oct 14, 2021 1:15:38 GMT
What are you afraid of?
If Boone had truly known Jude, then he would have known that this was worst possible approach to coercing him into doing something he vehemently didn't want to do. He would have known that this was not the time to ask real questions, even without the expectation of real answers. He would have known to specifically avoid that question because he would have known that there were things Jude didn't talk about, ever. He would have known that his mission was doomed from the start, but from the second he asked that question, he had essentially blown the tiny, infinitesimal chance he had for any compliance or cooperation on Jude's behalf to pieces. But Boone didn't know any of these things because at the end of the day, they weren't lovers or friends or even coworkers - they were strangers. What was just a conversation for Boone quickly had Jude backed into a corner and like any other wild animal, he felt the increasingly urgent need to fight his way out.
The question settled over his skin like a layer of frost, melting into him until the cold settled deep in his bones. He froze in place, letting the unintentional chill of the question turn him to ice, halting all nervous fidgeting and evening out his anxious, unsteady breaths. On the outside, he was a glacier; still, immovable, numb to the words Boone was saying. Every word out of Boone's mouth justified the necessity of another wall until there was a fortress inside a fortress inside a fortress in his mind. Even when Boone moved, giving Jude the space he requested and even offering a towel as some sort of peace offering, Jude didn't even look up. He sensed what Boone wanted out of him, to just yield to his request and quietly leave, and that somehow made it worse - like any other reaction was unreasonable.
"Let's take a quick detour and forget about the fact that you just threatened me," His tone the kind of calm that comes before a storm, the only hint to how bad it would be was the hard, ice cold edge to his words. "You don't know a damn thing about me and as much as I would love to function in high pressure situations, I can't. Not 'I-don't-want-to', not 'I'd-rather-not' - I can't. I won't bore you with the details, but I can assure you that I would be completely fucking useless. No, I can't just get over it. No, I can't just try harder and pull myself together." As he spoke, he gained momentum and the hard, cold edge to in his tone melted into unmasked resentment. He still didn't look at Boone, didn't even blink as he stared straight ahead at the rim of the tub as he continued, "And shockingly, physical violence, chronic disappointment, and deep-seated resentment strangely don't seem to just immediately fix me. I know it's inconvenient for you but believe it or not, it's not so great for me either. So as much as your not-so-subtle threat to my lifestyle and freedom makes me want to wholeheartedly commit myself to whatever nefarious plan you have and probably risk my safety in the process, you're barking up the wrong tree."
The heat of his anger melted away his icy exterior and Jude finally snapped his gaze up to Boone. The more he looked at Boone, the angrier he got and he slowly stood, feeling the tension build in the silence between them. He took the towel, working on slowly drying himself as he started to speak again, his tone far more casual than it had been moments ago, "No, the problem is that you think that you have some sort of leverage over me or some incentive to offer, and you don't. Sure, you could lock me up - but I don't think you'll let that happen. Because if I get locked up, then we'll practically be neighbors and I doubt that I'll be feeling cooperative enough to drink your little concoction." If Boone wanted to toss threats around, then so could Jude and unlike Boone who didn't know the first thing about Jude, Jude knew that Boone hated to be forced into sight. "I'm sure you'll try to have someone force it down my throat and maybe it'll work, or maybe it won't. Maybe I'll smash the bottle or spit it out. Maybe I'll throw it up after they leave. But the point is that you'll be close enough that it wouldn't matter how much you wanted to disappear. I've heard that cursed blood is rather rare, it would be a shame to have so much go to waste, don't you think? Oh, I'm sure you don't want our little rendezvouses getting out, do you? It would raise a lot of questions about where you spend your time. I'm sure your superiors are already a little paranoid, so I don't think it's implausible to think that a couple well-worded accusations, even from a degenerate like me, would go over very well for you." It had only taken Jude a couple of seconds to think up several completely realistic ways to fuck up Boone's life, but it felt redundant to add that if incarcerated, he had all the time in the world to brainstorm new and creative ways to ruin Boone.
Just as quickly as Jude had lost his confidence, he found it again. He stepped out of the tub, closing the space between him and Boone as he gazed up at the other man. In all their secret moments, they hadn't had shared any direct forms of intimacy beyond the occasional touches. He shamelessly raked his gaze down Boone's body, pausing in all the right places, before looking back up at him. He wanted to reach out and touch him and almost did, but seemed to think better of it. "But that's not the real reason why I don't think you'll let them lock me up... No, the real reason is because even when no one can, I can see you. And I'm not just talking about your little invisibility trick... I'm willing to take an educated guess and assume that I'm the only one who knows about your dirty little secret, hmm? The only one who wouldn't be repulsed by someone egregiously invading their privacy to watch them get fucked by another man? The only one who would get off on feeling your eyes on me as a whore sucks me off? I see all sides of you, Boone, and I don't care about whatever secrets you're tangled up in. All I want is the man in front of me - you, exactly as you are."
For a moment, Jude's eyes rested on Boone's lips and he got this faraway look in his eyes, like he was lost in a fantasy of what could have been. Seconds passed and reality started to seep in, like icy ocean water in a shipwrecked boat. He leaned in, delicately placing his hands on Boone's shoulders to steady himself as he stretched up towards the taller man. "So let me make this very clear," Jude whispered, leaning in towards Boone as if they were sharing secrets, "I'll disappear long before you imprison me. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to start over. And I'll always be one, two, twelve steps ahead of you I'll always feel you coming, long before you even get close to me. You'll be left chasing a ghost."
And with that final parting sentiment, Jude pressed a cold kiss to Boone's cheek before he abruptly stepped back, maneuvering around him and swiftly walking out of the bathroom without a backwards glance.
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Post by Val on Dec 8, 2021 1:24:42 GMT
Boone didn’t know why he let it happen. He knew it was coming the moment Jude looked at him like that. It was a look he hadn’t received in many, many years- for good reason. He’d sworn to never allow himself to be in this situation again; on the precipice of intimacy, no matter how innocuous it seemed. He barely felt Jude’s hands as they leveraged his shoulders, acting more like a brick wall than a man made of flesh and bone. It was impossible to focus on Jude’s words as he felt himself spiraling into the unwelcome and unforgiving past, ignited by a single, innocent kiss to the cheek.
There was a point in Boone’s life where he received similar gestures almost every day. But where the meaning of Jude’s kiss was shrouded in mystery, all the ones Boone could remember had been bestowed upon him for one reason: pity. Face after nameless face flipped through his mind- young women crying because he’d insisted it was their fault, tenacious men who didn’t know when to quit, and so many more who didn’t even bother to hide their secondhand embarrassment. No matter who he was with, and no matter what he experimented with, Boone had never achieved the kind of satisfaction that Jude reached with ease. His skin, his beloved armor, his cloak of anonymity- both a blessing and a curse- numbed him to the physical sensations that others took for granted. He’d become a heathen, driven by the base need to overcome his humiliating weakness. In the end, he had lost sight of himself and what was truly important. It took him many dark years before he realized that he didn’t need people- only himself and the sanctity of his mind. Shedding the monster that was his former self had been the best decision he’d ever made, and he would never go back.
All of that was over a decade ago- a lifetime- and Boone no longer recognized the young man from the past. He gazed at himself in the mirror over the bathtub, eyes brimming with disgust. Not toward the kiss, or Jude- but himself for slipping up for even a second. Jude didn’t want him- he only wanted the impossible fantasy that had developed between them. Ultimately, Jude’s false perceptions of him didn’t matter, and so he shut down the impending self-loathing before it had a chance to take root. One thing was now abundantly clear: Jude was a distraction that he needed to get rid of immediately. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared, allowing the memories to vanish along with his skin.
Boone swept out of the bathroom and made way for the locked room in the hallway. He was unworried about Jude making a premature exit- no one entered or exited his home without his explicit permission. The sound of several locks and latches could be heard as Boone entered the room, closed the door, and relocked it once inside. The study was both impressive and overwhelming, depending upon varying opinion. Shelves filled with identical leather-bound books lined the walls, and where there wasn’t a shelf, a unique charcoal sketch filled the space. Boone rounded his desk, piled high with books and loose pages, and approached the back wall. He began to scan the spines of the notebooks, plucking several from the shelf with a sense of purpose. Once he had found what he was looking for, he returned to the living room- refocused and ready to move on from the young man who threatened to send him into an unacceptable relapse.
Still invisible to the human eye, Boone emerged in the form of disembodied clothing and a stack of levitating books. He placed them down on the kitchen counter with a thud and began to flip each one open to the first few pages, displaying them neatly for Jude to view. Each notebook appeared to be a detailed profile on an individual person. The first and smallest bore the sketch of a young, delicate looking young women with exotic features uncommon in their kingdom. Below the image was a name, scrawled in perfect script: Nadia Riaz. The second book was much older, and he had to flip through several younger portraits until he reached the most recent one. The image of the man was unmistakable, with unruly dark hair and prominent tattoos etched upon his face: Destrian. The final book was by far the largest, and it was clear that many pages had been added over the years, stuffing the leather binding to the limit. The contents of the book dated back to Boone’s first assignment, with his first observations made back when he was a teenager. The sketch was that of an unassuming, clean-cut man: Roman Addison, formerly known as Soren.
“I suggest that you avoid these people,” Boone advised coolly, suddenly all business as he provided Jude with tidbits of the information he possessed, “I consider them high risk, and they’d greatly benefit from possessing someone with your abilities.” He looked at Jude finally, studying his reaction to what he had to say. Boone had dropped his earlier propositions entirely, acting as if they no longer existed. Perhaps that was because they didn’t- the offers for Jude to remain an ally to the Paragon were officially revoked. If Jude was so good at disappearing, this was the time to demonstrate those talents. “It goes without saying that you should also avoid us from here on out.” His tone was pointed just in case Jude didn’t understand what was happening. Once Jude walked out of this room, out of the base, and back into the real world…he was no longer under the protection Paragon. He was an outsider and would be treated as such. And if he proved to be a problem, Boone would have no choice but to incarcerate him, or worse.
Jude had been so right about some things, and so very wrong about others. Although he was desperate to keep Jude under his thumb, it had never been Boone’s explicit intention to threaten him. If he had wanted to handle things that way, he would have done so a long time ago. What Jude didn’t seem to realize was that Boone had already meticulously dwelled on every possible threat that Jude could hold over his head, but that hadn’t stopped him from taking risks and doing as he pleased. And although he didn’t for one second believe that Jude was twelve steps ahead of him, he genuinely hoped that the man could disappear as expertly as he claimed- for everyone’s sake.
After a long moment, Boone side stepped Jude and approached the front door, carefully entering the combination to unlock it. His hand lingered on the handle, but he didn’t open the door. No…he wanted Jude to be the one to walk out. He would have no one to blame but himself if he ended up regretting the decision to leave.
“You are free to go, Jude,” Boone announced quietly, turning away from the exit. He brushed past Jude and returned to his living room, where he settled onto the couch and fixated his stare on the empty fireplace, “But you are not welcome back.” Part of him wondered, and maybe even hoped that the man would change his mind, but he knew Jude well enough to realize that this was goodbye.
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Post by starrea on Dec 15, 2021 5:23:23 GMT
Where Jude lacked strength to maintain composure under pressure, he made up for it with his incomparable ability to ignore tension. He had long since learned to breathe through the thick, suffocating tension that seemed to follow him where ever he went. Jude didn't need to turn around to know that Boone had finally followed him out; the tension in the room increased tenfold, thick with words that neither of them wanted to say. When he did finally turn around, dressed, he wasn't surprised to see that Boone had hidden himself. It was for the best, he didn't want to see Boone anyway. It was easier to talk to the empty air, easier to invalidate how complicated things had gotten between them.
"Avoid us? So that's it? I don't want to do your stupid mission so you're just going to throw us away? Throw me away?" The question was already out there and hanging between them before Jude could consider all the implications of the way he had worded it. He cringed, mostly because he knew that there was no us - not when it came to whatever was between them. What he should have questioned was whether or not Boone was actually throwing him out of Paragon, or if he even had the authority or justification to do that, but for some reason that seemed less important than the question he had already posed. The truth of the matter was that for the past decade, his life had been a revolving door of meaningless relationships until Boone. And for some inconceivable reason, he was indignant and insulted that Boone could so easily cast him aside.
He shouldn't have been surprised that his admonishment would have shut Boone down, but it was frustrating nonetheless. For some reason, he had expected resistance - yelling, anything other than disappointment and acceptance. It was a sharp and cold reminder that Jude was a temporary and insignificant part of people's lives - something that had never bothered him until now. Guilt start to nibble away at him as he was faced with the consequences of his own actions. He had only pushed Boone away because he had assumed that Boone would push back, but he was sorely disappointed and he had no one to blame but himself.
There was some other uncomfortable feeling lingering in the pit of his stomach, something that Jude struggled to label. These past three years living on the peripheries of Paragon were among the most stable of Jude's twenty-eight years on this planet. Before he had settled down in his little shitty apartment, Jude had been a drifter. There was a reason that Jude appreciated the finer things in life; there had been many, many nights that he had miserably gone without. Nothing had made him value his cheap, grungy apartment like sleeping beneath a bridge in sub-zero temperatures. Jude wasn't sure he could back to that life. He had tolerated when it was necessary and when it was all he knew, but three years of stability had spoiled him.
Anger started to replace the guilt and he remembered why he didn't get attached. There was a sudden surge of anger and hatred so potent that he could almost taste the bitter taste in his mouth - Boone had tricked him. It had happened so slowly that he hadn't even noticed the way Boone had anchored himself in Jude's life. He was stupid, spoiled by the cheap alcohol and cheap company, and he had gotten careless. And now, just like everyone else in Jude's life, he had become more trouble than he was worth and he was being tossed away.
"Fuck you," Jude spat, his eyes following the disembodied clothes as they floated towards the door. Boone's warning fell on deaf ears; he was too angry to really digest the gravity of the situation. He didn't hesitate to take Boone up on his offer. He was already thinking about a new name - maybe Josiah? - and a new destination. As much as he hated the cold, he considered the idea of traveling north and crossing the border in Grovakha. They weren't exactly welcoming to people like him, but he wasn't planning on divulging his true nature again - he could only repeat that mistake so many times before he finally learned his lesson. He could learn the language, learn the culture, and live off of the grid. Maybe even learn how to distill alcohol. With any luck, he could drink himself into oblivion in the peace and solitude of some mountain by next month.
The weight of Boone's warning settled over him slowly like a blanket of snow. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, suddenly reluctant to leave. Paranoia crept into the recesses of his mind and he glanced around the room, lingering on the shadows. The properties of the blood had been absorbed into him, numbing his senses. He was blind; completely vulnerable to an ambush. He couldn't even feel Boone's presence, and he was all of eight feet away. The thought was distressing and he focused on a shadow in one of the corners of the room, half expecting someone to materialize in it. His skin crawled and he couldn't help but feel like they were coming for him. Fear crept up his spine, immobilizing him. He couldn't leave, he couldn't even turn the doorknob.
"Those people...," Jude cleared his throat, trying to keep the nervousness at bay, "Do they know who I am? Will they hurt me?" The real question he wanted to ask lingered on the tip of his tongue; do they know? If they were hunting him down, then they knew his secret. They knew where he was from and why he was running. If Jude were a better person, he would let his past catch up to him - lord knows he deserved it. But he wasn't a better person. If he was, he wouldn't have been responsible for the collapse and ruination of the dead kingdom of Sinoa.
As much as he wanted to storm out of here, to leave Boone firmly in his past and forget everything that happened between them, the fear of his secrets unraveling kept him rooted to the spot. He couldn't leave now, not when the threat of retribution was rapidly catching up to him.
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Post by Val on Jan 6, 2022 1:30:16 GMT
You wish. Boone thought bitterly as Jude hit him with an uncalled for “fuck you”. It frustrated him that Jude couldn’t see that he was trying to help. His position and reputation within Paragon were a delicate matter, and Boone had no room to be generous. The little consolations he was offering Jude were far more than he provided anyone else, and Boone couldn’t help but expect an inkling of gratitude. This was exactly why he needed to distance himself and fast. He’d become possessive of the man and begun to spoil him, offering up intimate baths and confidential information. This was the kind of impulsive behavior Boone had shut down years ago, and yet somehow Jude had slipped through the cracks in his resolve. Boone scowled to himself and eagerly awaited the moment that Jude would step out the door and officially out of his life.
Boone waited for the click of the door opening and closing, but it never came. After several moments of heavy silence, he finally spared a glance to find Jude lingering where he had left him. Only this time, his demeanor had changed. Boone raised a brow, content with the fact that his surprised expression was hidden. He had been so sure that Jude would take the opportunity to flee and disappear, but he remained frozen in the foyer.
Fear. Boone sensed it like a well-trained predator targeting its prey. It filled the room in a way that he was all too familiar with, like when his footsteps were a bit too loud, and his unsuspecting subjects would sense his presence lurking in the darkness. It was fear of the unknown, and Boone instinctually latched onto it. He watched all the telltale signs- nervous swallowing and flickering eyes- and felt his resolve melt away just as quickly as he had built it back up. Jude was smart to take his warning seriously, and now he’d finally given Boone something to work with.
“They may or may not know of you,” he answered calmly, “They certainly don’t know more about you than I do,” he added pointedly, sensing that there was something specific that Jude was worried about. Boone was annoyed over whatever information Jude was withholding from him, but he didn’t show it. In time, he would find out exactly what Jude was hiding, because that was his job. “And yes…they will hurt you.”
Boone sat forward in his seat and gestured to the armchair across from him, “Sit,” he requested, seemingly having forgotten his desperation to get away from Jude. He tried not to think about what that said about his self-control. Instead, he reasoned that this was an opportunity to keep Jude under his thumb where he belonged.
Between them, a wooden table dominated the center of the living room. Boone leaned forward, observing the elegant marble chess set that sat upon the center of the table. It had been his grandfathers, his fathers, and now his- a family heirloom that had been carved by hand over a century ago. The pieces were perfectly aligned, ready for a game to be played, but Boone wordlessly began to rearrange them. He lined all the pawns up on one side of the board, the pieces seemingly floating into place. Next, he placed the bishops, knights, and rooks on the opposite side of the board in no particular order until he was left with only the kings and queens. Boone rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he placed a king and a queen behind the barricade of pawns and, on second thought, he tipped the king over so that it clattered onto the table. On the other side of the board, he placed the second king amidst the array of special pieces and this time hesitated with the queen, eventually settling her in the corner of the board. He then leaned back with a sense of finality, observing his work.
“Nadia Riaz- the self-proclaimed Queen of Raevaryn,” he stated, pointing to the solitary queen situated behind the pawns. “If she was aware of you and your abilities, she would have reason to lock you away. Raevaryn has a powerful army, but they have all but decimated their population of special individuals. Perhaps she would use you as a weapon to subdue her enemies. Not to mention that she seems to have a knack for collecting…curiosities.” Boone moved his attention to the opposite side of the board, speaking in a clinical manner as he addressed each of the people on the map, “Roman Addison,” he continued, pointing to the king , “It’s possible he knows of your existence. He was…one of us. If he felt threatened enough, he would want to make sure no one had access to your ability. But it wouldn’t be as simple as holding you prisoner. He and his companions would be affected by your presence, and that would be severely disadvantageous to them. They would want you dead.” It was a simple fact, and Boone stated it as such.
A brief silence fell as Boone studied the remaining pieces. In the far corner, he’d left a queen to signify Nethilor. Even he would admit that he was unsure what part the kingdom would play in the inevitable events to come. He eyed a bishop that was representative of Destrian, wondering how the group was faring now that he’d forced them together- chaos, perhaps? He longed to spy on them, but he was unable to get anywhere near that farmhouse without being sniffed out by the animals. He placed a finger on a knight- the horse being a suitable depiction for Caspian Whitlock- and teetered it back and forth. Roman ought to be careful, for he now had a very obvious weakness.
Eventually, Boone returned his attention back to Jude, studying his expression intently. This would undoubtedly be a lot to take in for someone who chose to be oblivious to the outside world. But Jude had asked, and Boone had delivered in vivid detail. Reaching for the king he had toppled, he picked up the final piece and rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully, “You have no idea how important you are,” Boone murmured, tone unreadable. He extended the king to Jude, placing it on the table in front of him as though to signify that it was his turn to make a move, “So. Tell me, Jude. What would you like to do?”
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Post by starrea on Feb 4, 2022 5:25:23 GMT
Just like the inevitability of the encroaching tide, Jude felt the beginnings of a panic attack crawl over his skin. He couldn't help it, couldn't slow it down, couldn't do anything but watch his mind crash and burn under the weight of his paranoia. He recognized the paranoia taking root and saw the way his mind conjured up the people Boone had mentioned, the ones who wanted to hurt him, into faceless shadow people. He knew they only existed in his mind, but they didn't feel imaginary. They felt real and they felt close, too close, like they were lingering just out of sight. His heart hammered and there was a ringing in his ears that drowned out whatever Boone was saying. He felt like he couldn't breathe, but that was because he was taking short, shallow breaths instead of long, deep ones, but he couldn't sway the panic of needing air. Success breeds complacency. Complacency breeds failure. Only the paranoid survive. If he died, there would be only himself to blame.
And Boone. As Jude fought the persistent waves of panic as they hit, he couldn't help but notice the way that Boone had orchestrated and shamelessly capitalized on his anxiety. For some reason that Jude did not care to explore, the realization that Boone just saw him as something to be controlled or contained stung a little more than he wanted to admit. Rage boiled over, washing away panic and leaving clarity in its wake. If he was going to go down, he was taking Boone with him.
"You aren’t the only one with a pension for uncovering secrets," Jude teased tensely, leaning back in his seat and looking at the empty air that hung between the disembodied clothes as if he could still see Boone even when he was hiding. Boone's fondness for invisibility didn't foster the same uneasiness in Jude that it did for so many others. Their intimacy spanned past the pretenses of societal norms so Boone's visibility, or lack thereof, was insignificant. This was why their dynamic was so irresistibly addictive; they were locked in a battle of wits, both social pariahs, both desperate for someone to see them yet both profoundly cautious and guarded. There was probably some deep psychological reason why Jude felt driven to engage in this sort of dangerous game with one of the few people who perhaps had the resources to uncover his secrets, maybe some form of self-destruction driven by deep-seated self-loathing. Or maybe there wasn't any reason at all besides the fact that gambling was only really fun when the stakes were high. Whatever it was, Jude didn't think too hard about it.
There was a shift in the air as Jude shifted from defensive to offensive, channeling his anxiety into something stronger than Boone's bullying. The nervous energy that had been rolling off of Jude in waves ceased and he settled in his usual confidence, letting go of tension and quieting any nervous ticks. "I hear things, too. Usually not anything as… classified as your secrets, I’m sure, but I recently heard something… salacious." It wasn't like Jude to use fancy vocabulary words but he liked to dredge them up whenever he sparred with Boone, a subtle dig towards Jude not being quite as dumb as Boone probably believed.
After a suitable pause to build the necessary anticipation, Jude wasted no time in jumping into the story. Whilst Boone had a certain fondness for violating privacy and clandestinely uncovering secrets and skeletons, Jude loved to gossip. "So I'm sitting at the bar and it's almost three in the morning, and it is only me and this one other guy, just a poor drunk who asks me for some advice. He was in rough shape, like hadn't-bathed-in-a-week rough. Apparently, his wife thought he had a drinking problem, but isn’t a man entitled to a strong drink after a long day of hard work? It wasn’t like she was contributing to the marriage; all she did was sit on her fat ass and talk shit with her sister all day. Oh, and get this - the last time they had sex was two years ago. I would need something a lot stronger to get me through two years of abstinence… like a lobotomy." Jude paused to chuckle at his own joke, in absolutely no hurry to get to any sort of point. He didn't need to see the obvious irritation on Boone's face to know that this was pissing him off.
When Jude spoke again, there was an almost patronizing edge to his words - like he knew something that Boone didn't. "Anyway, he asked me the strangest question. He asked me if I thought it was worth it for him to sell his toe. I know there are some weird fetishes out there and all and I’m hardly one to judge, but this was weird, even for me. And let me just say that if I were the kind of person to buy someone's toe, I wouldn't be spending money on this fucking guy's toe. Anyway, then he explained that he has a special talent, that he can breathe through his skin. Now, it's three in the morning, he's totally hammered and his entire life just blew up in his face, so obviously I didn't put any stock into what he was saying. He tells me this story about how he discovered it. Apparently he was passed out drunk at the kitchen table, and his wife put his face in a bowl of milk. The bitch literally tried to kill him, but to both of their surprise, he woke up about ten hours later with his face in a bowl of sour milk. I still didn't really believe him, because it sounds completely insane, but he won't let it go. So then he decides to prove it to me and this fucker just straight up puts his face in a bowl of water. I got real nervous because I didn't want to watch someone accidentally kill themselves, so I tried to push him away but he pushed me back and gave me a thumbs up, so I just sat back and timed him. He didn't come up for air for well over seven minutes, and I was watching him close. There was no way he could have been breathing. And when he came up, he wasn't even the slightest bit out of breath. So now that I believe him, at least about the breathing through his skin part, I ask him about the whole toe thing. He explained that he had been approached with an offer… seven thousand yen – for his fucking toe. Apparently, blood and other body parts have a... unique reaction with normal people. Now, who could have possibly guessed that?"
After another pause for dramatic effect coupled with a clearly satirical imitation of thinking hard, Jude continued, "Hang on, the story gets juicier. I guess one of the first products on the market were from someone who had inhuman speed, and consumers reported that his... muscles made them high, but - get this - faster. Not physically faster, but increased activity, sex drive, all of that, and all without the addiction and risk that comes with drugs. The universe has a real sense of humor, huh? Well, I thought it was sort of funny. But the results aren't that consistent, I guess. Probably dependent on a whole bunch of shit that I couldn't even begin to try and speculate. But anyways, this guy was seriously considering this. Apparently he had bad luck with finding work and he was homeless and starving, but more importantly, had an alcohol addiction to finance. The only problem is that some people who donate parts of themselves end up... disappearing. He's heard rumors that people with special talents are going missing. None of them can find work because no one wants to hire a mutant, and they don't care when they go missing. The only thing that he knows about the market is that most of the supply comes from a shadow organization that not only provides the whole carcass, but also has the resources to search for and procure special requests. Now, normally, I wouldn't waste any energy on some drunk guy's ramblings, but his story did sound a little suspect. I remembered that I have someone I can ask, someone who is very interested in creating a safe atmosphere for mutual respect and trust."
Jude didn't immediately press for answers. In fact, he hadn't even been planning on revealing this piece of information until Boone had noticeably capitalized on his anxiety. Instead, he turned his attention back to the chess board between them, "I find it very interesting that you didn't put yourself or any other members on the playing board. Or do you see yourself as the player, manipulating everyone from above?" The rest of the question, although unspoken, was unapologetically suspended between them - manipulating me from above?
There was a clear and safe exit strategy. Years of experience of surviving one disaster to the next had him looking back towards the door, weighing his options. He could feel the rest of the world losing color, becoming unimportant in what was rapidly evolving into a very possibly dangerous situation. His attention was solely consumed by Boone and this game that they were locked in, but he couldn't help but recognize the option to walk away. It was taunting him, just out of reach, but he couldn't seem to rally himself to truly consider it. Realistically, Jude recognized that when it came down to fight or flight, flight was the option that had continually and consistently kept him alive. But even if he wanted to forfeit this game between him and Boone, there were now other players out in the world who wanted to kill him, and he had no clue who they were. By walking out that door, he would be trading the devil he knew for several that he didn't.
"Before I ask you this question, I just want to remind you that this is a safe space for total honesty," His mocking tone begged to differ, but he really did expect total honesty out of Boone. This was a landmark moment for their relationship. Up until this moment, neither had a reason to lie because they had a mutual agreement not to ask any questions - but now, answers couldn't be avoided.
"If I refuse to cooperate, is that what you're going to do to me?"
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