Fantasy Petal Plucking Theory

[atomic]

“Do what you wish,” Solomon waved him off. He’d said that he didn’t have to give up his job and life as long as he knew the ground rules. But if Agnes wanted to be defeatist because he was defeated, Sol wasn’t going to change his mind or pretend to care. He didn’t care what Agnes did from this point onwards in regards to his personal and professional life.

Solomon watched carefully as Agnes put the number in his phone. There was no possibility where he imagined that Agnes would want to spam him with pointless texts. Because nobody would do that to Solomon. He probably wasn’t even sure why people used phones so much because he seemed to never use his as much as Iosif. That man wasn’t always sticking his nose in his cell. And it was always going off with text notifications.

Sol had his comfortable quiet. And he would likely pop a blood vessel if that was suddenly taken away from him due to a constant vibration in his phone. “Oh yes, I expect that you will be a massive waste of energy and time. But if you can manage to do one thing in particular that I have in mind, it will have been worth it. And you’ll be able to pay yourself on the back. Really it’s a win win for everyone.”

Sort of. While Sol spent time on Agnes and helped train him, he expected that he was going to be doing quite a lot that would constitute additional debt on Agnes’ behalf. It was only a little amusing to Solomon that he kept saying the man was owing more and more. Yet, he expected that there was really only one thing he wanted from Agnes. And once he got that, the rest wouldn’t matter. But he supposed if either of his siblings wanted to see to that debt they could. Otherwise, not so much. “Please head into the living room. We’ll start running through some demonstrations of what you can control.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes' immediate instinct was to refuse. As far as he was concerned he'd really just been dragged around since he'd woken up and his body was just screaming protest. He really didn't want to get up from where he was and started walking. Then again he understood he probably didn't have much of a choice, not in this state. Though, it wasn't only that. The fact that the man had done nothing but help him since he'd gotten up that day was another point he just couldn't ignore, even if he really wanted to.

Letting out a small huff of protest, the blond pushed himself up using the counter. Alright. He could do this. Sliding the phone back to the owner he started his way towards the living room. His walk was interrupted with a few limps; legs trembling somewhat with each step. After settling down for a bit it was even harder to get up and start moving again. Luckily the walk wasn't that far but he was unaware of how much energy the man's "training" would be requiring.

It would appear from the time he'd gotten out of the shower to the time he reached the living room that his hair had begun to finally dry. Blond strands were beginning to fluff up and poof out like a faulty lion's mane replica. But there was no denying the fact that his hair did look to be very, very soft (plus there was the bonus of it smelling quite good). Agnes placed one hand on the wall to steady himself at the entrance to the living room, his other hand rising to find itself in his hair to try and calm down the poofy strands.

An immediate frown crossed his face as his fingers caught tangled. Screw his hair. Could it really not stay untangled for more than a few minutes? Okay. So maybe he should cut it. But he definitely wouldn't. While he couldn't control a lot of things in his life he could at least control his hair and make it something that made him "different" so to speak. He'd hold onto that.

"So, my good sir, what have you got in mind?" Agnes said with a rather smooth yet clearly sarcastic voice.

 

[atomic]

Solomon spent the last few moments cleaning his kitchen before he left Agnes to go to his office. There, he retrieved some miscellaneous items like paper balls and glass balls. He grabbed a quill display that had cost him a fair amount of money. Yet, he pulled the pen afart from the feather and placed the pen back on the desk. He also pulled some heavier objects such as books and what not.

When he returned to the living room, Solomon inspected Agne’s hair which was finally drying. It really did look like a little lion’s mane, didn’t it? He place the bag gently on the couch. “Alright, Agnes. Tell me some more about the nature of your power. From what I’ve read since you first told me, your power can be used in many different ways though most have an affinity for one way over the other.”

He opened his palm and opened a vacuum in space to the void, “For instance, some can create black holes large enough to allow for forward time travel. Though I wouldn’t know why anybody would like to do that.” He places the array of heavy to light to delicate objects over the coffee able and around the room. “And then, there are those who use gravity to compel objects closer to each other at rapid speeds. You said you control this by touch, yes?”

He thought back to the bank, “If you had touched me, you could have increased my gravitational pull and had those shards of the floor slam into me. An impact like that, assuming the gravitational pull was bigger than the Earth’s, would be devastating. Or perhaps you’d decrease the gravity around me so I could not move, allowing you to physically attack.”

Sol sat down in his chair and waved around at the room which now looked a bit like a playground, “Please. Demonstrate your power and what you can control. How you use it. The different ways you know you can use it. I’d prefer not to make guesses or go into your training blind.” And then Sol just waited expectantly. It was rather obvious he wouldn’t be going anywhere until Agnes tried something. “And please be careful. This coffee table likely costs more than your house... or apartment.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Despite not wanting to Agnes was hit with a rather what felt like fatal amount of nervousness. Having to use his powers in front of someone in this way felt like a test. Then again . . . wasn't that what it was? A test showing the strength of his abilities? Oh dear. He was certain he did not have the energy to do this. What a miserable day this was going to end up as. If not miserable then just certainly embarrassing at the least.

Agnes rose a hand to gently play with the ending strands of his hair. Somewhat of a nervous habit. "Oh alright. You know that telling me the price makes me want to break your junk about ten times more." His tone took on a rather "matter of fact" part to it. Keeping his attitude out of the way was seeming to be deemed rather impossible at this point. Really, he couldn't help it. "Plus you just told me to show any of my abilities. Didn't say there was a limit as to what I could show." Ah, the energy of his words most certainly didn't match the energy his body was showing. Strong words from a nearly dead man. Darling combination.

With some useful effort he got his way to the desk, raising a hand to brush over many of the items. His fingers trembled lightly as he did so. He was trying to convince himself that this wasn't due to his own anxiety but rather due to his lack of energy. Finding himself content with all he'd touched he took a step back. The balls, the books, and a majority of other things he'd gotten himself to touch. Damn. Some part of him kind of just wanted to hit the objects off and onto the floor like a cat. Meow meow Mr.Void. Bet you wouldn't expect that. Okay, so, maybe he was thinking that but he held himself back from doing just that. But he really, really wanted to. Maybe he'd do it in the (near) future.

A deep breath slipped from his nose as Agnes focused on one of the glass balls. They would be simple enough to pick up and they wouldn't hurt as much. As long as his thoughts didn't travel in the wrong direction then he didn't have to fear the object breaking. "Alright . . ." A very faint pounding resounded in his forehead but it wasn't really bothersome, the object wasn't enough to do any damage due the small amount of energy needed. Though, just like that, one of the balls began to tremble before carefully rising into the air but at a rather slow pace. He didn't want it to just fling it against the ceiling. Then, following that, a few other of the objects began to copy the ball's motions. A few of them appeared to be a bit shaky, but there wasn't much more than that. What he was showing was nothing special nor big. Due to how he was feeling he was just starting off small. Or, maybe, he was just getting ready to try and lift the entire beauty of a coffee table- because the man near him would make decent coffee table target practice.

"So, what. Some things are up. What else are you wanting me to show you?"

 

[atomic]

"I was afraid you might react immaturely in that exact way, yes," Solomon smiled, his lips not offering the amusement they usually would. He would hate to lose out on a wonderful coffee table because Agnes was an absolute moron. But he supposed those kinds of things couldn't be helped because Agnes also seemed to be an absolute incompetent moron. Sol watched in mild apprehension as the other inspected the room. He looked nervous which wasn't surprising seeing the damage he could do to himself with that power of his. But Solomon wasn't going to wait around forever. Solomon waved his hand dismissively, "I didn't. You're correct. But it would be ideal if I didn't have to spend any extra money because of you."

Well... more money than he was already spending on Agnes. Everything was money. Extra electricity. Extra water. Food. He stopped thinking rude things while Agnes began to run shaky fingers over the objects Solomon had brought out for him to play with. Because yes, as far as the man was concerned, this would seem a lot like the other was messing around. Was wasting his time with party tricks and useless powers. Solomon watched, then, as one of the glass balls began to slowly, slowly rise in the air. Well, at least the man hadn't shattered the thing all over Solomon's living room. But it wasn't very impressive, was it?

Sol began to tap his feet, carefully studying the way Agnes was straining to control these little objects to rise in the air one after the other. Considering that a few of the other objects weighed differently, he supposed there was some control after all. Things that weighed lighter weren't shooting up into the ceiling. And things that weighed the same weren't lagging behind. It meant he had to be adjusting each item's gravity based on it's supposed mass. How did he know, though? That was curious. Solomon wanted to know everything about this man's power. But instead, he first had to determine what the boy could do with it. "Well, this isn't very exciting or particularly useful. You look like you're about to pass out."

Solomon stood and picked up a pen off the coffee table, tapping one of the glass balls to see if Agnes would lose control of it or if it would float off in his living room. "When you think of gravity, what do you think of? I think of our solar system. A perfect balance, that if something were out of place would throw the entire thing off. Near perfection. That's what I think of. You are far from that. Your first assignment is to recreate our magnificent solar system on a smaller scale. Calculate how quickly planets might be orbiting around each other and adjust their gravity in relation to each other. We'll focus on the planets for now, and if you meet my expectations, we'll add the moons. Control, balance, focus. Do you think you can do it?"

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"How very observant of you." Agnes remarked with the usual crackling fire. He was very aware of his appearance. How could he not be? His skin was full of sunset coloured blossoms of the most sunny yellows and deepest purples. In no way was he something truly pretty to look at. Of course that wasn't all as dahlia reds ran in thin lines along him in the shapes of scars. The floor had been a perfect recipe for a wonderful pain filled cocktail.

'Gravity?' Okay. So that word fit into his daily thoughts a lot. But . . . an image? What he thought of when that was on his mind? The only thing that was tied to that word was pain. There were no interstellar clouds or eclipsing binary stars. No shades of deep blues and purples that hovered in the aftermath of a galaxy destroying explosion. Agnes certainly did not, in any way, think of the solar system that the very planet he lived on resided in. Though, he couldn't help but wish that he did.

Instead of answering the man's question the honey haired "brat" started focusing on what he'd been instructed. Other ideas seemed to simply slip into his mind; some involving the man to be something with large gravitational pull that he could just launch all the objects into. Somehow he was able to talk himself out of it, knowing his plan had a ninety-nine percent chance of not working out. It seemed his moves would be considered rather predictable anyways. Then, setting that aside, he finally got to actually focusing on the task at hand.

Just by the tugging on the crown of his head and also by appearance he could easily sort what balls would be better for what planets. He decided to set the paper balls as the terrestrial planets, and the glass as gas. It just seemed to fit. Of course he had to find something as the sun and took it upon himself to just using the largest ball on the table to do so. Now, controlling so many objects as increasing the tugging in his mind, the slight pounding against his skull. Sometimes he swore that each time he did this, part of him was being chipped away.

Each object was moving at it's own pace, Agnes going only off of memory for how the solar system moved. He was tying everything's gravity to that of the largest ball- but he was having trouble keeping that ball in a solid place. To anything watching it would be very clear that he wasn't having an easy time. Was he doing it? Yes. Was it running smoothly? Absolutely not. The pain had begun now, a wild path of thorns in his arms and through his very veins, his bones. In the center the "sun" began to appear to, ah, have some very small cracks forming. Agnes was doing his best to not panic, just trying to concentrate on having the system going.

 

[atomic]

At the moment, Agnes was not easy to look at. He assumed that anybody who would come in to see this man would cringe at the sight of him. He looked like Solomon had taken him out back and beaten him senseless with a shovel. But it was to Solomon’s own amusement that Agnes had done all this damage to himself. Oh come on, it was a little funny, wasn’t it? Agnes was such an annoying creature that Solomon felt very little sympathy.

He already couldn’t afford the sympathy because this man had been out to play that dirty trick on Solomon. It left a bitter taste in his mouth when he remembered that an attack like that might have likely been the end of Solomon Nox. His siblings certainly wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help him. Any paramedics were likely to slip something toxic in his treatment. Nobody would have been scooping him up and nursing him back to health. And all that would have been what a man like Sol deserved. The simple fact was that Agnes had tried to kill Solomon and if he hadn’t missed, he would have.

Against Solomon’s will and plan.

That was unacceptable. His calculated gaze watched Agnes struggle with his assignment, watching the way each planet moved around each other. It was a pitiful replication and Solomon imagined a toddler could reimagine a better working solar system than that one. Solomon even watched as the sun began to crack. He stood up then, shook his head in disappointment, “Not good enough.”

He moved over, stepping behind Agnes to place a cold hand against the back of Agnes’ neck, “Breathe. Focus. Don’t pay attention to me. You’re tense. And I can feel the overabundance of energy spilling through the rest of you. It’s messy. Like your hair.” He ruffled the man’s hair for emphasis, whispering to keep the system going as he began to suck away some of the pain like he’d done earlier, helping the man feel nothing.

“Powers are an extension of you. You’re using too much, but you might be using it on the wrong thing. Have you wondered whether when you’re touching these items if you’re the center of gravity? You may be fighting against that without knowing. Currently, your sun is under the most stress because you’re acting like that’s the center. You know, I lost a large amount of myself to my own power because I didn’t understand it.”

He noticed the strain, removed his hand from Agne’s neck, and pat the man’s shoulder, “Adjust your solar system with you being the center and orbit the entire system around you. It’s just a theory, of course. We need to figure out why you’re hurting yourself so badly. But we can do all that tomorrow. You should rest some more.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

The man's touch was completely unexpected. Each individual finger against his neck was as cold as the arctic and sent a gentle shiver down his spine. Agnes was fully aware who the touch belonged to and just how dangerous it could be and yet . . . like before it just didn't seem dangerous. So maybe the touch wasn't like the arctic and maybe it was like a deep blue pool in the summer. It was cool - not cold. Dangerous but not threatening almost as if he were submerged only up to his shoulders; one wrong move and he could be trapped under the water. Huh. A lot of people portrayed water as beautiful, mysterious, wondrous, vast, and even absolutely terrifying. What a kaleidoscope of opinions.

What threw him off even more was when the touch shifted to his hair. Oh, he totally wanted to say something, but the butterfly kisses from fingertips to his golden strands left his mind running blank. For a moment such a touch (even with the insult) could be considered kind. Caring. Compassionate. The fading pain due to the man almost seemed to further prove those ideas.

Of course he quickly convinced himself otherwise.

Agnes' thoughts shifted away from the touches and to the man's words. The information he was given oddly seemed to make sense - maybe because it involved things he had never thought of before. He couldn't help but wonder for a second if that maybe if he'd just asked for someone's help when he was younger, he would be a lot stronger now.

For a second he'd been about to follow the man's original instructions, but the loss of touch to his neck caused him to register that no, the man wanted him to do something else. Rest? Yeah. That did sound nice. With plenty of shaking all the objects began to lower down to the ground in Agnes' struggle to not have everything break or shatter. The moment everything was settled he swayed gently, a fuzzy run of dizziness invading his mind. Oh. Rest sounded more than nice. "Oh . . . okay." Gradually his headache and aches were lessening, fading slowly. There were no words to explain the relief he felt each time he could just stop using his abilities. "Do I just go back to the room I was laying in before?" Each word was a bit slow, a bit tangled, almost as if he'd just woken up from a nap that wasn't long enough.

 

[atomic]

If Agnes was under the impression that Solomon’s touch was kind and compassionate, he would probably have to spend a while thinking about which one it was. He hadn’t actively touched the man to be kind. He just didn’t really feel anything either way, so it he found it easy to touch people casually. To ruffle their hair or place a hand on the back of their neck. He didn’t think anything of it.

Maybe it was kind? It wasn’t malicious, obviously. There was no need for anybody to be thinking too much into it. Solomon was more concerned with this brat’s progress. His touches were almost always going to be practical and calculated. The hand on his neck to distract him. The ruffling of his hair was... well their had to be something practical about that. And the pat on his shoulder. Emphasis. He’d done all that for emphasis. Right.

Agnes looked like he was coming out of a daze when he removed his hand. Sol immediately began to pick things up and tidy his living room the way it had been in the beginning. He needed things clean and neat otherwise he’d likely go fucking insane. Just a side effect of being a control freak. Sol straightened up and looked at the other man like he was a few chromosomes short. Almost dismayed.

“Unless you were planning on sleeping on the floor like a golden retriever? Yes, that room, where else would you rest? What is it with you and asking dumb questions?” He sighed, eventually and shooed Agnes away for the time being. Yes, the touches had certainly just been that. Touches. Practical. Agnes was lucky Sol was concerned the guy might spontaneously combust if he pushed him any furth in one day.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes could have said something back but he didn't. Such a thing seemed almost impossible when exhaustion was weighing down on his eyelids and pulling dark circles into his vision. Who could blame him for his stupid question when he was like this? With a lazy roll of his eyes he began to make his way back to the room; once more relying on the wall to keep himself from taking an unfortunate fall to the floor.

Getting back to "his" bed was like reaching the oasis in a desert. Upon brushing up upon the side of the frame the young man just let himself collapse onto the cool sheets. Ah. The contrast in temperature was a true comfort to his aching self. He had no complaints. Closing his eyes he breathed in deeply and just accepted the smell of the becoming familiar fabrics. No, this smell was not becoming comfortable, but it was becoming . . . alright. With a casual few rolls, that was how he fell asleep. Spooned up in sheets and clothes that weren't his own with chilly fabric against his skin, and that was how he fell asleep.
-
The next few days had been a bit stressful. At least that's how Agnes categorized them. He still couldn't get himself to become used to being around Solomon, to become used to this building. This wasn't home. Here he wasn't surrounded in his own familiar scent, his clothes, and well, just anything that made the space his own.

In a place like this he couldn't help but start to get homesick.

So upon waking up a few mornings after the first training session he could only grimace at the rolling in his stomach. Agnes didn't think that he could get homesick but the true reality of his situation was slowly forming chains around him. How could he be the least bit happy here? Maybe it was selfish since he was having "free" things handed to him but . . . none of the things made him feel better. Rubbing at his eyes he slowly sat up, the motion a lot easier than it had been days before. The dark bruises, ink against his skin, had finally begun to turn sickly yellows and greens in certain places. At least the ugly colours were a sign of further healing.

Sliding his legs over until his feet touched the floor he let out a small yawn. Agnes had absolutely no clue what the man had planned for the day, if anything at all. Though he supposed he'd end up finding out soon enough.

 

[atomic]

Solomon was at his desk in his study like he so often was. If Agnes has made any observations about Solomon over the days, it might have been that the man really didn’t get out much. He typically left this study in the morning, afternoon, and evening to eat food. Or he’d step out to oversee Agnes’ training. Though, yesterday, he didn’t even leave for that. He just made it clear that he expected Agnes to practice.

But even Solomon needed to get some fresh air ever now and again. Going through his parents’ old financial statements tended to put him on edge. They made him restless. Iosif and Nika never had to deal with this stuff. As if he’d put his brother in charge of important documents and finances. Solomon pushed himself away from his desk. He was in a white dress shirt and black slacks, his typical daily wear. A dark blue tie hung loosely from his neck.

Not a strand was out of place where he had his hair slicked back and controlled. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, a sign that he had probably spent all night in that study and this was the first time leaving it since seven the night before. He moved through the apartment and opened Agnes’ bedroom door without knocking. Ah good, the brat was awake. Sol looked the other over just to make sure of something.

“Right. Get dressed,” he nodded towards the man’s dresser where there were a few clothes Iosif had brought from Agnes’ apartment. Yes, they found it fairly easily. “We’ll be going out today. Get some breakfast and some new clothes. You’ve been walking around this place like a trash puppet. It’s been very distracting. I doubt you’ll let me give you a haircut?” He had come to learn that his dreams of getting rid of that distracting messy hair would never come to fruition. “Is there any place you would like to eat? I’ll let you choose. But that means no arguing when it comes to clothes.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes hadn't forgotten the fact that he had some of this own things but those things simply didn't amount to much. Not when they felt foreign in a place like this. So when the man came into his room with the sudden command for him to get dressed and a (maybe) reasonable amount of questions he couldn't exactly decide how he felt. "I think you already know the answer when it comes to my hair. No way in hell." His voice carried a deep weight which was simply due to just having woken up. Though along with such a weight came a very clingy grumpiness. What a wonderful morning.

"Don't know what the heck we'd argue about when it came to clothes but whatever." As long as the clothes actually allowed his body to breathe and wouldn't cause him to be miserable when it came to temperatures then he was fine with really anything. "I also don't really care where we eat. Wherever is fine. But if you're wanting me to get changed then please exit the room." Crossing his arms he shot a small glare at the man - though it wasn't very effective due to his appearance. How could he be taken seriously when his hair was a bird's nest and his lips were in a half sleepy pout?

"Now get out. I'll be there in a minute." Agnes wasn't the most aware of his attitude at this time but it wasn't like it'd matter in the end. Pushing himself up from the bed, his eyebrows scrunched up and that small pout of his remained yet.

With a firm glance at the man who'd "disrupted" his morning he glanced over him carefully. Ah. Just as fancy as always. Turning away he moved to the dresser to start pulling out some of what was there. In the end his hands ended up filled with a black t-shirt with a few fancy cut designs around the neck and shoulders, then just some black jeans. Yeah. Simple colours were his thing and black was a pretty simple and safe colour.

 

[atomic]

Solomon furrowed his brow at the state Agnes was in. Why did he always look like he was kind of homeless? And he always had something difficult to say back to the man. It was never just a simple, 'okay, sir. I'll get right to it. Whatever you want.' Okay, actually, that would probably annoy Solomon more than their typical conversations even if that would do his ego wonders. He liked to be respected more than anything else, and he had a strong feeling that Agnes didn't respect him. That was ridiculous, by the way. Solomon had earned respect for multiple reasons just based off of what society deemed respectable.

He had power, both legitimate, expert, and coercive all at once! He had money that he'd gotten both legally and less legally, but either way, Solomon had it. He knew how to use his power better than anybody who dealt with the void. He was handsome and he dressed sharply. Solomon was intelligent and resourceful. In almost every way, Sol believed that he deserved respect. He got respect from almost everybody he met save for his dull siblings who still mouthed off to him. But what were siblings for?

But now there was... Agnes.

And Agnes had certainly never treated him with respect. Every word out of his mouth was coated with some sort of snark or rebellion. It was annoying. And Solomon didn't know what to do with it but respond in turn with his own attitude. "You seem like the type that would argue to wear the least attractive clothes in a store just on principle. You certainly haven't proven yourself good taste." Really, Solomon couldn't talk. He was probably pickier and more of a pain in the ass about his style than Agnes was by miles. You should see Iosif trying to get Solomon into something more casual than business casual.

For that reason alone, Iosif had offered to tag along so he could spare Agnes the torture of having dress shirts, slacks, and suits picked out for his new daily attire. Solomon checked his watch - yes, he wore an actual watch - and his lip twitched, "Well, hurry up. I'll be in the living room. My brother's coming. I don't think you two have spent too much time together." Solomon almost closed the door before Agnes rudely told him to 'get out'. He opened his mouth to correct the insolent behavior but only ended up sighing and closing the door behind him only to jump out of his skin.

"Dear God, Iosif. How long have you been standing there?" Solomon glared at his older brother who was sneering at him like the brat he was. They were all brats.

"Long enough to watch you totally get walked all over by your newest obsession," He smiled. He was wearing a sleek leather jacket over a loose white shirt. And his jeans were slim and fitting like he'd had them made specifically to accentuate his ass. Say what you will about Iosif, but the man was attractive and he annoyingly knew it. Unlike Solomon, his brother used that to his full advantage to slip under the sheets with anybody that wanted to tango. Sol frowned at Iosif's words, "He's not an obsession."

"That's what you always say. Remember calligraphy? You said that wasn't an obsession either, but who was the one that stayed up fifty-two hours writing hate mail to the ambassador of whatever fucking country you wanted to anger at the moment?" He teased. The quill and ink were still in Solomon's office and he went just a shade darker having this pointed out. Iosif continued, "I'm just sayin' Solly, you keep him locked up in this tower all day and people are gonna start talking."

"Please be quiet."

"Haha, my lil bro has a crush."

"Your lil bro is running out of patience, Iosif." A crush. Right, and pigs could fly. He'd see if Iosif would still tease if he knew the real reason he was keeping Agnes around.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes was uncertain as to how he felt towards the man's brother. Yes - still. The man. Calling the man by an actual name felt like defeat in a way. Anyways he couldn't apply the same to the man's relatives. Not yet. A small huff left his lips once the door closed and his shoulders sunk in relief to just being alone once more. He was trying to tell himself that maybe today wouldn't be so bad but . . . even if he was getting new clothes it sounded like he wouldn't be able to get anything he was used to.

That very realization caused a great wave to roll in his stomach.

Straying from his thoughts he began to make the effort to change, relaxing upon the soft material of his shirt as it stroked up against his chest and stomach as he put it on. This piece of clothing was becoming like a snuggly burrito of comfort. It didn't take him much longer to finish changing and quickly afterwards did he fold up the worn clothes and place them on the edge of the bed to be washed later.

So then. Shopping. Would anyone recognize him when they went out? Was there any possible way he could get out of this situation once exposed to the freedom of cleaner air? Still wasn't like he could do much. While he was most definitely better and now littered with the colours of green daylilies rather than blackberry hues it didn't make up for the fact that he was still healing. Still injured. Still recovering. Plus even if he were able to somehow get away, what could he do from there?

With a butterfly weak sigh Agnes opened the bedroom door and began making his way to the living room. All the while he remained completely unaware of the conversation that had occurred between the two other males. If he'd heard it, it would have only confused him in the end anyways. Who could have known his life would take such twists and turns and have him falling at uneven speeds. Seemed to push terminal velocity out of reach.

Sliding his scarred fingers into his pockets the blond finally reached the entrance to the living room, eyes narrowed in an open expression of uncertainty.

 

[atomic]

Iosif eventually stopped bickering with Solomon in favor of using his phone in the living room while both of them waited for Agnes to come out of the bedroom. Solomon didn’t have anything quite so interesting to do so he sat too, but just absently stared at little bubbles of void that opened up and closed of sending puffs of air like ripples around the room. He was bored. Again.

Then Agnes did come out of the bedroom and Solomon lifted his head slowly. He even opened his mouth to say something of a greeting of sorts when Iosif beat him to it and hopped off the couch. Well... what he had to say wasn’t so important, anyways. Iosif was examining the guy he hadn’t seen since he was told to leave. “You’re looking much better. Give it a couple more days and those bruises’ll be gone.”

He was then circling Agnes. Not in a predatory way, but more a ‘I’m trying to get a good idea of what you’d look good in’ kind of way. Though the words that he said next had nothing to do with the way he was studying Agnes, “I’m Iosif. I gotta say, I’m surprised Solomon didn’t kill you. Never got the chance to say thanks for trying.” You’d think he was joking, but there was something oddly sincere about Iosif thanking Agnes for attempting to take down Solomon.

“Most people don’t have the balls to try anything,” he added.

“This has less to do with him having balls, and more to do with him not having a brain,” Solomon commented, though it was much quieter in the presence of his older brother who was loud and energetic in comparison. In that way, Solomon has always been more of a shadow. Nika was strong and serious, but she had this youthful beauty that always made her the center of attention. And Iosif was flirty, charismatic, and full of energy which made him the life of the party. Solomon was none of these things.

Or... he was some. But nobody really quite noticed him. That was typically their last mistake when all three were in the same room. It had even been his siblings’ mistake as well. In this case, though, Solomon was even more subdued and reserved then normal. “Let’s go.” He grabbed his cane that had been resting on the door because he planned to walk a bit of a distance. And after a while, he knew he’d need it. Though he refused to look at Agnes when he grabbed it.

Iosif stayed a little behind Solomon as they walked, glancing at the other, “You should relax a little... Agnes, right? It may seem like the end of the world, but he’s keeping you around for a reason which means once that reason’s clear, you have your way out. Just be happy you’re not related to him.” Iosif walked with a light energy in his step and one eye constantly on his phone. “You been thinking about getting a job, again? Whatever job you lost, we can probably help you get it back. Bring a lil normacly back into your life, eh?”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes certainly didn't expect the . . . man's (Solomon his ass - that man wasn't worthy of a name) brother to be so . . . upfront. Iosif was a new part of the messy kaleidoscope his life had become. He knew really nothing about the man and definitely did not know what to expect.

His attention had originally been so focused on Iosif that he had nearly missed sol - ah, no, the asshole, reaching for the cane. Having not said a word the entire time since he'd walked into the room he couldn't help but stare at the man for a moment as he held the object in his hand. Seeing him relying on a such an object left the thoughts in his brain running miles. Of course he didn't miss how you-know-who was definitely not looking at him. Was he embarrassed? No. That didn't seem like the right word.

Trailing with the two and possessing the thoughts of a lost soul he was only pulled out of his reverie due to Iosif. ". . . For some reason I can't help but doubt that. Getting a new job is out of the question now that . . . well. Whatever. Doesn't matter." The very idea of just having some actual normalcy in his life made his stomach tighten in a way that had to do with loss. Oh. He'd really love having anything of the sort right now. Hell. Maybe a sort of sad and sappy part of him was even craving for something like a hug from an old friend. Just something familiar, warm, and well, like home. Maybe he was just a bit pathetic.

"What makes you think I'm looking to return to a normal life anyways?" He couldn't help but ask, wondering if his own desires were just that obvious. Of course they very well could be, but, you know, he didn't think someone would pick up on that so soon. Then again, his life had just been sent into a spiral and to anyone watching it may seem all he would want would be for that spiral to stop.

Really, Agnes has not meant for his tone to get so sharp. But, in the end, who could blame him?

 

[atomic]

“Now that what, you’re working for Sol?” Iosif jut his thumb in Solomon’s direction as they made their way down the hall to the elevator. Sure, Agnes wasn’t actually working for Solomon, but it was the easiest way to describe the little arrangement. The older brother let out a little laugh and shook his head, “He’s not gonna stop you from getting a job. In fact, knowing him, he’ll be delighted to know you’re paying your way.”

It was a little weird to be standing around Iosif and Agnes at the moment. People liked to talk about him like he wasn’t there, and his siblings had done that since he was a kid. It was even more awkward as the three of them fell into the elevator and Agnes was asking Iosif all his questions with that snarky mouth of his. He couldn’t help but cast a little look at the other behind his shades. Iosif rolled his eyes.

“Because you’re the definition of mediocre,” the man teased, poking the side of Agnes’ cheek, “It’s not really meant to offend, I’m only saying so because you don’t seem like the type of person who strives to set himself apart from the crowd.” Iosif was good with people, but he was still a bit of an arrogant asshole even if he meant well.

“My guess is that you want nothing more than to go back to a normal boring life. A job can help you get back to that.” The elevator opened on the lobby floor and Solomon brushed past them without a word. Really, it wasn’t anything new. The silent treatment. It was fine only because Solomon had nothing important to say to them or add to their dumb pointless conversation. And Iosif didn’t even care what Sol did or didn’t do.

He was focused on the new toy his brother had picked up. So boring! But at the same time, he became one of the most interesting things to happen to any of them in a long while. “So, if you had a comfort style, what would it be? I don’t want to take you out of your comfort zone because looking good is only half the steps to feeling good. Or better.” Finally, Solomon seemed to snap and he flicked his head behind his shoulder, “Will you shit up, Iosif. You’re talking both our ears off.”

The man crossed his arms challengingly, “You’re one to talk. Poor thing’s probably had nothing to listen too this entire time except for your self aggrandizing diatribe in glass shattering volumes.” Solomon opened his mouth, glared for a few seconds, and then snapped it shut. Right. That’s why he chose to stay out of conversations when Iosif was around other people.

 

[CherryPetalTea]

Agnes did want normalcy. He wanted it more than anything. Though getting a job was not going to deliver that. Somehow he couldn't help but feel that almost nothing could now. His only chance at normal was starting from a completely clean slate. Somewhere else in the world as a new someone. A place where Agnes was not Agnes.

The words Iosif shared with him seemed nothing more than wishful thinking. Or, really, just some kind of joke. He didn't want to go back to a "normal and boring" life, no, he wanted to go back to his life. A life that involved the smell of green tea in the morning and staring out of wide windows. His home. Some sort of structure with cool air and refreshing scents, of rose gold afternoons. Just a place that was his and his alone. Not long before he'd been "kidnapped" he'd been thinking of getting a cat. To make his home and "their" home. So that he could breathe in the wonderful summer air with a quiet and comforting friend at his side, one that wasn't too clingy, but one that was there for him all the same.

So, just maybe did he want some sort of a normal life. One just involving him, a cat, and his ability. With nothing else in the world to worry about.

". . ." Agnes was silent through the interactions happening between the two. Not like he exactly knew what to say but he was surprised to see someone besides himself basically sassing Solomon. He wasn't quite certain as to how he felt about Iosif calling him a "poor thing" as if he were some sort of puppy but he knew there wouldn't be a point in getting upset over that. "I don't really have one. I just like dark colours, anything that isn't really fancy, and really anything soft."

He supposed that he just liked, well, boring. Simple. Such things were a way of making him feel at least a bit normal. And like now, ignoring the conversations between the two, he was just pretending that it wasn't happening. He'd barely even registered that Solomon had been left speechless.

 

[atomic]

In normal circumstances, the younger brother probably would have lashed out in some kind of physical manner. The void could be sharp like a knife and he’d done that before when Iosif was challenging him. And this was a weird challenge from the older brother’s part. He wasn’t being sneaky about it. Why else would Iosif dare to be or act friendly with that boring blur called an Agnes?

But Solomon didn’t lash out because they were in the lobby of his hote and no sooner than he made his appearance out of his room were there people watching him and his every move. Well, at least he wasn’t invisible anymore like he was upstairs. Sol didn’t mind eyes on him. It was only a sign of his status that some people seemed to forget he had. Sol drowned out the two behind him again.

Iosif, on the other hand, was too busy smirking at his younger brother. He absolutely hated being called out in front of people. It must be driving him crazy that he couldn’t lash out down here. Iosif turned back to Agnes, “Dark colors, not fancy, and soft. Well, lucky for you, rich assholes have the softest clothes.” He gave Agnes a little patronizing pat on the head before rambling about this and that.

They made there way out of the hotel, breaking onto the city streets that were alive and well. This would be the first time Agnes was outside of the Solstice since he attacked Solomon. Sol got stares out here, too. His was a face that was on the news quite often. It was a miracle they’d gotten one block without somebody spitting on him. Or maybe it was just fear that kept his suit clean. Two more blocks down and Solomon was already feeling the strain on his leg.

Iosif watched his brother as he trailed behind with Agnes. “Why’d you do it? Try to take him down, that is,” Iosif finally asked, noting the way Solomon’s shoulders tensed as sign that he was listening. Though heaven only knows what that bastard was thinking. Iosif was curious about this incredibly boring human who somehow found the balls to take on Nox. “He wouldn’t have hurt anybody. He was just bored, you know. Awful what happened to the bank teller, really. But you shouldn’t blame yourself too much.”

 

[CherryPetalTea]

"Don't assume things like that. I don't know when or where I ever stated that I blame myself because I don't. If I actually were blaming myself then I'll certainly keep it in mind to never ask for advice from you." The first part of his sentence was a lie. Agnes had certainly begun to feel guilt over that man's death but he wasn't going to admit to it. Not now. Not ever. Certainly didn't help that Iosif's words were the exact opposite of comforting.

Recovering from a small cat-like frown that had tried to make way to his face he just lightly shook his head. "As for why I attacked him I don't know what that's necessary to know. And anyways, pretty sure there are plenty of easy reasons to figure out yourself."

Now he hadn't been bothered by Iosif before but these certain questions had triggered the more unhappy side of Agnes. He just wasn't okay with them, wasn't ready for them. Mainly because he'd thought about them himself, and the more he did, the more his own reasons just seemed to amount of nothing. So when asked why he had done it, he just couldn't answer. Or, well, he couldn't give an exact answer.

Lips pressing in a thin line the blond continued staring ahead as if trying to ignore Iosif (which he actually was attempting to do). It wasn't that Agnes was usually a sensitive person, but, today was just turning out to not be his day. Things that weren't hitting him before had begun to creep up and hit him now.

Was it wrong of him to feel guilt now? To silently grieve for a man he did not know, a man who he ended up getting killed? A part of his brain said so. He didn't get to mourn for his own stupid mistake, especially not in front of these two men. As far as they should be concerned, he wasn't feeling anything "sad" of the sort at all.

 

[atomic]

“Right right,” Iosif couldn’t help but dramatically role his eyes, “The hero type isn’t blaming himself. That’s believable.” If there was one thing Iosif had learned about being a bad guy, it was that heroic people were all a part of the same flock. You think Solomon would feel guilty if one of his goons got killed because of something he did? Get real. There was no way in hell this Agnes guy wasn’t eating himself up inside for being an idiot.

Iosif looked up at his brother, ahead of them and shoulders tensed. Oh, there were plenty of reasons why anybody would want to take down Sol. It was just a matter of which one of those reasons made up the bulk of it. Some people wanted their moment in the spotlight. They figured that Solomon was a big enough name in the power world to get that recognition if theirs became attached to it.

Others actually wanted to do good. Though, they were far and few in between. Funny enough, Sol had never really had to deal with those heroes often. And on the rare occasion that he did, Solomon won fairly easily. It was hard to fight something that could swallow you whole in a matter of seconds. However, the majority of challengers were like this kid. In over their head, sick of a mundane existence as a nobody.

At least, that’s what Iosif was assuming. He couldn’t imagine there were righteous and wholesome motives behind attempting to take on his brother. Solomon must have seen something interesting and different, though. The fact that he was alive still proved that. Sol stopped them outside a little classy cafe. “If you’re done interviewing the mophead, I’d like to eat now,” the man drawled as the host met them by the door.

“Oh, Mr. Nox. We have your table ready for you,” She dipped her head and moved through the cafe to the back. Solomon didn’t like eating in the open for obvious reasons. He pulled out a chair for Agnes next to him before sitting down. The man was still being quiet in the shadow of his brother who was currently flirting with the hostess. Solomon cleared his throat and looked at the blond, “Do you want a drink? They have a decent mimosa, but I think you’d have to be daft to mess up a mimosa. I am curious... about what he asked. Why you chose to take me on. Most people do it for the spotlight. So?”