chrisisofaith | IC Contact

You should come visit.

Well how can I refuse an invitation like that?

Should I bring anything?

If you're going to want to pet the cat, bring treats for the cat. Otherwise no.

Why’s everyone into cats or has one?

What kinds of treats? Meat? Biscuits?

I don't know about everyone but I have one because I hate being alone and like assholes.

He'll eat anything just give him his token treat.

Well that follows.

Alright, be there soon.

[Very soon, in fact, and with his bit of chicken in a paper towel in hand, he knocks at the door. When Crais answers, Chris’ greeting is a smarmy smile]

You miss my dulcet tones already?

[ The second Crais opens the door, the tabby is winding around Chris' ankles and making annoying noises. Look, Crais is training him to be happy about guests - that Crais often thrusts him upon as a means of disarming said guests. ]

Yes, actually, but if you even think of actually singing and I 'll throw you out again.

[ He's smiling a bit. It's not a serious threat, just... Crais. ]

[Despite any kvetching, Chris doesn’t hesitate to crouch down and offer his piece of chicken to the little tabby.]

Hey there, small one. An offering for ya…

[He looks up at Crais, that smile back in place.]

No fears, I’m a passable singer, but more likely to sweep you into a dance if I fancied.

[ Slyvester takes the chicken with delight, and much purring. He's honestly a very nice cat, even if Crais called him an asshole. ]

I can't even pretend you're that sort of person. The cat's occupied, come join me in the kitchen. I'll feed you to make up for demanding your attention.

[He hums a bit to himself.]

Ah...yes, now I see why you've got the cat. Alright, deal.

[He does give the little thing a few scritches before leaving him to his prize to follow Crais.]

You're welcome to my attention so long as it's not elsewhere in more need, which honestly isn't often. Anything on your mind or just a cooking bug and needed a ready mouth?

If I invited you over to make use of your mouth, I wouldn't be cooking.

[ He's a little caught off guard by that statement but only in a way that actually makes him laugh. This guy is... a lot more than he appears, in several ways. The wicked sense of humor is a nice surprise. ]

Let me feed you the food, first. Then we can discuss the rest.

[He shrugs.]

I dunno what you're into. Grew up in a brothel, lotsa people into lotsa things.

[But the smile and humor in his voice give away that he definitely doesn't think Crais is into anything he might be implying.

Teasing was just a fun pastime.]

I'm all yours, what's on the menu, then?

[He'll follow Crais into the kitchen and waste no time in ploping himself up on the countertop.]

[ He doesn't think Crais might be into... oral sex? Because Crais is absolutely into having his dick sucked, thank you.

He moves to grab a dishtowel to pull a pan out of the oven, and set it on top of the stove. ]

Potatoes with gravy. It's cheese short of being poutine, but cheese and I have a questionable relationship. Grew up in a brothel?

[The fuck’s poutine? Well, potatoes with cheese, he supposes.]

Sounds wonderful. But, yeah…“Swallow’s Charm” was home sweet home from the age of four to twenty-two.

[ Given their wildly different time periods and realities their confusion over things is strangely similar. Crais enjoys the food aspects of that confusion though.

He gets busy plating up the fries and gravy and finding forks. ]

I'd like to be surprised or appalled but we had children born and growing up on Command Carriers - military ships. I'll settle for concerned.

[Theres a surge of defensiveness in him that he quickly tamps down on. Other brothels certainly had such practices and Chris hadn’t been specific, it’s not Crais’ fault.]

Ah..well, valid feelings, but they’re not needed on my behalf, I didn’t do much work there until I was sixteen-on and even then, only man I bedded was one I picked, wasn’t allowed on the menu otherwise.

My official title was ‘companion’ when I had skirts about me, I gave people company and listened to their stories and woes. When I shed the skirts, turned more to security.

[He shakes his head]

Lady Ivaline woulda skinned anyone who so looked at me. She took me in to protect me from those who wanted a child dead.

that is definitely better than starting to train children to kill people when they're five.

[ He just accepts what he's told. He knows nothing about most people's world's here so what he's told is... what is. It's freeing in some ways.

Meanwhile he hands Chris his prepared plate of food and plates his own up. Yeah Chris, go ahead and eat on the counter. He'll settle in beside you shortly.]

No, that’d be my twin.

[He takes the food, yes on the counter, with a small ‘thank you’ and happily takes a bite of fries with gravy. Great use of fries or chips or whatever they’re called, honestly.]

She was taken in by an assassin group and raised for one. We each had our role to play.

[Even if it had taken time for Chris to fall into his.]

Were you one of those children you mention, born into such a life?

Role to play.

[ Echoed blandly, but not with judgement. He might resent those implications a little but that's not about Chris or his sibling, it's his own shit coming out to play.

Speaking of. ]

No.

[ He takes a bite, and then elaborates. ]

My brother and I were part of a handful of conscripts when I was in my early teens. I spent most of my actual childhood in an agricultural community.

[Chris is patient for the explanation, happy to busy himself with his own food.

Crais says agriculture and for a moment, there's an almost starry look in his eye at the thought. Farming and ranching were a novelty, Melvaunt's ground wasn't rich enough to support either, which was why so many people were fishermen or manufacturers or soldiers. There was something charming to the idea of working with the land like that, even if Chris had only ever picked up one of those little hand trowels because Chastity had shoved it at him.

Then the rest registers, particularly 'conscript' and Chris' eyes narrow a moment.]

So you and he were still forced into the war, just not from birth.

[Was it better or worse to not know another life? He supposes he wouldn't know.]

Were you able to stay together, at least?

[ Common misunderstanding he should have anticipated. He's still not used to sanity in these things, but- ]

No war. Not of our own. We were effectively a very large mercenary group, to which most were born to, some where conscripted to, and almost no one voluntarily joined. We fought wars for the highest bidder.

And yes, Tauvo and I stayed together.

[He had no opinions on mercenaries or mercenary work in general, but a whole group like that, one that could even conscript? That was a private army waiting to happen and, by the sounds of it, did.

Terrifying in concept, especially when he can just picture how a city like Mulmaster or Zenethil might use such a thing..

He shakes his head.]

I hate that. Sorry it happened to you both.

I appreciate the compassion and sense behind that statement, but it's a system tens of thousands of years old and while I didn't enjoy it, it was also completely normal while I was within it and if I'm traumatized I haven't noticed.

[ He does however recognize that it's terrible, but also he's dead. ]

Eat. We can go cuddle or something when we've finished.

[There’s, honestly, plenty of sense in that. It was similar to how he felt about the assassination of his family. Plenty were angry for him. He didn’t remember them or the event, it wasn’t his trauma.]

I hear you. Not worried for it so much as the thought scares me, but you’re right: it is what it is, and what it isn’t is here.

[But he’ll turn back to his food. It affords him a chance to figure out the emotions for what he needs to say. At least he doesn’t feel the need to pick his words carefully with Crais.]

I’m not a great cuddler unless it’s after sex or going to bed, but I can try.

Though, if you’re into having your hair pet, my lap makes an excellent pillow.

[ He really likes Chris.

He really really likes Chris. ]

I want to sit down and I like physical contact. You can pet my hair or we can forego the contact. The part I'm determined about is sitting on an upholstered surface.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject