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Fear makes the wolf look bigger

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Well, he hated that. It was inevitable and Ryujin would know him well enough to be completely aware that Kallias had a thing about abandonment. He wouldn't say it was because he'd been an abandoned orphan (at least not out loud) but because he was a wolf and this was his pack; he would do anything to keep them together. But it was the fact that Ryujin would know that and would still tell him so openly that helped Kallias accept it with the grace that he was mustering up in that moment. He respected Ryu's honesty and trust in him far more than he could feel sad about his boss leaving them, however long or brief it might be. Though there was a momentary fall in his expression, worry, grief, annoyance, it faded to resignation and than to grim acceptance.

Kallias forced a smile, one that he knew still had a bit of genuine emotion in it. Now was not the time to get all sad and mushy, not while the crew was celebrating. They would talk more in depth once they had to make all the plans necessary to keep this armada safe while their Captain journeyed. As much as he would miss Ryujin, he was proud of him for seeking out his heritage. It was something that Kallias had never been brave enough to do for himself... something, deep down, he knew he should. "Cap... you're everything to us. But that's exactly why I think you need to do what you have to do. You deserve that much. Everyone deserves to know where they came from." His smile was a little wider and more genuine as he reached out and gripped the back of the faiman's head with friendly firmness. "We'll talk business later, you're right. And you've got me... whatever you need."

END.

Ryu stood there, silent, eyes peering out towards the water as Kallias pressed for the reason. Anyone in good standing would wish to know, and Kallias was wise to ponder and press, for it'd only further set him up in Ryu's absence as he anticipated what was to come. Several minutes passed before Ryu downed his ale and smiled, though it never quite reached his eyes. "I have to go home, Kallias. My mother's home anyhow. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be kept on land for more than a day but... I have to." It was as honest as he could be, for the darkfriend could not speak of the deal he was hoping to, somewhat, avoid by venturing into Avalon. He wouldn't lie outright to Kallias, the newly established Quartermaster deserved to know for Ryu worried if he were to return back that Dantalion would set the Leviathan ablaze with is crew in it. No, this was for the best, even if it broke his own heart within the process.

"But, tonight, we drink, we dance, we fucking sing and bullshit. I don't want you to worry about my departure nor my journey." He poked the other sharply in the chest, though his voice ventured to a teasing regard, "You can't tell the rest where I will wander." Not all within the crew were deemed trustworthy - Ryu would never forget how disdainfully they looked upon him when he stood tall in his father's place.

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Kallias had known enough death in his life to be well aware that Drystan's generous assumptions were false. And though he didn't know the younger thief too well, he could also assume that he was a lot smarter than he was pretending to be. Just the fact that he was trying to downplay the situation made Kallias believe that, maybe, Drystan was even being thoughtful and generous. That only made him more certain he owed this man everything. "Saved me a lot more than that, kid," he breathed out, massaging the spot above his heart that seemed to be thundering still - adrenaline coursing through him.

He took a deep breath for the sake of his nervous system, calming and gazing over at the other. "This ain't business anymore, I owe you one." He nodded to himself and took a ring off his finger - one that he got from his crew. "Keep this. Whenever you need anything from The Leviathan Armada, it's your's, Fiore. Not going to take no for an answer." He was well aware there wasn't as much habitual camaraderie between Thieves in the Guild than there was among pirates, but he didn't care. Once the wolf's loyalty was won, it was unshakeable.

Drystan’s fingers twitched, resisting the urge to rub his temples. The other's words set off every internal alarm he had. That was the kind of nonsense that led to misplaced gratitude, which led to attachment, which led to complications he absolutely did not have time for.

He scoffed, standing and dusting off his gloves as if the whole ordeal had been nothing more than an inconvenience. “Oh, please. You weren’t going to die.”

The lie came smoothly, as easy as breathing. Drystan gestured vaguely toward the ledge. “You’d have landed on that awning, probably broken a rib at worst. And even if that wasn’t the case, you’d have pulled yourself up eventually.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I just saved you some effort.”

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make me choose: anonymous asked daario naharis or jorah mormont

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Kallias only took a select few Thieves Guild missions nowadays, and he tended to forget how much he'd changed. And it wasn't often that missions ended up with this much parkour... Working on a ship had gained him weight in muscles, gear and trinkets. He wasn't the spry, skinny and poverty-stricken young man he'd been before. Before, it would have been a lot easier to not break shit and Kallias had realized, as soon as the ledge started to crumble, that he has underestimated his weight.

The werewolf thought it had been a good idea. If they'd gone out the boring way, they wouldn't be able to catch up to nobleman with his pockets full of coin. An extra prize for them to take, a bonus boon for their mission well done! Alas, it wasn't meant to be. The nobleman walked away, ignorant to the stupidity happening over his head. Kallias' greed had gotten him in trouble; his feet slipped and cut on a broken edge of the roof before he nearly fell several meters down. As he looked at the ground below, suddenly aware he'd fall atop the fence and kabob himself, if he didn't break his neck on the stones instead. This was a terrible and embarrassing way to go out. He was still too young to die.

Fortunately, Drystan wasn't heartless. Kallias had hardly known his mission's partner before tonight and it was in that moment that the werewolf swore he'd have a lifelong debt to pay to the younger thief. It wasn't often that anyone outside his crew saved Kallias' life. He laid down on the roof, trying to catch his breath once Drystan pulled him up to safety. "You saved my fucking life, kid," he breathed out. Finally, Kallias looked up, still lying down. He didn't bother arguing that his werewolf senses had got them to the target to begin with. Regardless of his contributions to the mission, it would have been for nothing if not for Drystan. "No one's done that in ages."

who: @kalliastheforward

where: eterna

notes: this can be just before the city went to shit

The mission had gone smoothly enough—at least until Kallias decided to improvise.

“Idiot,” Drystan muttered under his breath, his sharp eyes catching sight of the man clinging precariously to a crumbling ledge, a dozen feet below the rooftop.

The plan had been simple: slip in, grab the ledgers, and slip out. Quiet, clean, no loose ends. But no, Kallias just had to test the structural integrity of a rickety balcony while dodging the guards. Now here they were, seconds from disaster as that same balcony creaked ominously, splinters falling away into the dark.

Drystan swore under his breath and darted to the edge. “Stop squirming,” he hissed down, pulling a length of rope from his pack. Saving people wasn’t his style. Risking his neck for someone else’s recklessness? Even less so.

“Mission’s done,” he said flatly, chest rising after pulling the over theif over the edge to safety. “Next time, try not to be dead weight.”

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Kallias was feeling more like himself now, his interest piqued and some of his trust officially earned. He was usually the loud and over-friendly sort and it wasn't usually like him to be so closed up and cold. This particular forest brought out the worst in him, but at least the Queen wasn't insufferable. It was like talking to an interesting lady in a tavern and he opened up easier now.

"Born right here in these very woods, your wolfness. Witch father, wolf mother from what the sailor told the matron when he left me with her. Never knew the 'rents," he recounted with a rueful smile. "Caribella orphanage raised me until I got tired of them. Known only the streets, docks and open sea for the better part of my life." He grinned, gesturing up to the sky - though it was still daylight so far. "The moon's been my light, the stars have been my guides."

"That's incredibly kind of you considering I spend a lot of time hearing how I can't possibly own a hairbrush." Haven, the Wildlands, it might be in Lysara but Aurea had grown up forced into dresses and corsets and being preached to about propriety and 'the game' and such. She doesn't care now, she knows that while she loves a dress, she favors mobility and a sturdy pair of boots. There's hints here and there of her status, more casual circlets inlaid with moonstone, her couple of rings, the craftsmanship of her coat, but there's dirt under her fingernails and some days the hairbrush really does get forgotten. She feels far from the lady her mother wanted her to be. "I was raised in Eastreach, I left to travel the moment I could. What about you?"

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There was a wistfulness to Ryujin's gaze. It could have easily been the mention of his father, or the thought of how long the two of them had known and trusted one another as crew members and friends. But, just in case, the werewolf's gut told him to pay attention. He valued Ryujin as crew but he loved him as family. Kallias didn't have any blood family to speak of, that he knew of, but he'd learned that family was constant worry for someone else apart from yourself - thanks to the Ryu and his father. "You know it was, is, the same for me," Kallias said with an earnest tone, brows creasing. "What brought this on? Besides the fact I'm worthy," he teased lightly.

The slight grin on his face began to fade. It was clear he was worrying. Perhaps there was a dangerous journey that they'd all embark on soon, or perhaps it was something Ryujin was doing on his own. Kallias had always known the young Seaborn to be ambitious and bold. "What're you thinking, Cap? What's going on between those pointy ears?"

Kallias had been the quartermaster long before he'd ever officially been granted the title, he was a remnant of a past that Ryu could only miss, something threaded with the grief of what he had done. His father's absence had placed the delicate balance of the ship rather off center, some older than Kallias had put down their arms and refused to follow the lead of Ryu, while others stayed if only because they'd no other place to go. The fight within Ryu had depleted alongside the death he'd caused, where once he vied to emulate everything his father ever was, Ryu saw himself for the truth of it all; a coward who had paid an ultimate price.

Maybe Kallias could understand, between each conflated word and roused applause for the appointed wolf, that Ryu was really, practically, saying goodbye. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, he'd like to believe that within Avalon, a new purpose would be found, something that tipped the scales in his favor and allowed him to feel he'd earned the Captain's title. At least if his favor soured more, the Leviathan would be in the proper hands. Kallias cheered, that echoing nod of acceptance that flooded relief in Ryu's chest. If worse came to worse, they would follow Kallias, they would obey his command, and that was the least Ryu could ask for under the dark sacrament that cursed him and damned his father.

"I already know this about you," said sternly but with an edge of fondness, "It's why the decision was made so easily." It should have been something done the moment Ryu stepped into the position of Captain, but not all had taken kindly to his ascension and it'd taken him a spell or two to regain his sea legs. All around them fell into line, mingling in some mixture of celebration; some pat Kallias on the back and others ensured his cup continued to over spill with mead. Either way, the conversation now resided somewhat privately between the two, "I can't speak for my father, but I think it was clear that he felt you were the closest thing to kin besides myself. He wouldn't ever take that lightly."

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Kallias laughed at the retort. Though a werewolf could indeed lie, he had not. It would always be Yannis first that Kallias cheered for when it came to the Colisseum; that special bond that formed between criminals was something Kallias had always treasured.

His voice raised a bit as he continued, loudly scandalized. "Some folks at the tavern were talking about that, uh, vampire... Valyrian something, whatever - the vampire who attacked Eterna!" He said, banging once at the table. "He escaped or something? How'd he manage all that magic and drama? Insanity. Closing up the games and businesses in the city... How are you supposed to make your coin?" He started to flag down a server. "This one will be on me," he insisted with a smirk. "No shortage of coin on the high seas." Kallias made a habit of insinuating Yannis should be a pirate whenever they met. "So, what's Penelope been saying?"

“Well I best be your favourite, I’d be offended if i wasn’t. I always have time for you Kallias.” Yannis apperiacted the man greatly, who else would let Yannis take the hit for their crimes? He knew a thief that was very territorial of their reputation and wouldn’t let him take the fall just out of sure ego. Maybe them both being overly friendly was why the got along so well, Yannis treat everyone like they were his brother, and didn’t hesitate in grabbing the other man shoulder back and giving it a firm shake.

“Training me hard, pushing me everyday for that pound of flesh. I haven’t had a match in the sand yet. Whatever went on out there has put a halt to games.” It’s was the most frustrating part he was so close he could practically taste it and now these dark creatures had to come and ruin it. “I hope they open back up soon.” He wanted his blood to hit the sand as well as his opponents, he wanted a legendary match, the crowd to scream his name. “Penelope isn’t so please though.”

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"Damn, that's crazy," Kallias muttered, nodding slowly. He pushed his barely-touched goblet of hot mead over the other. It wasn't often that the Armada had business in Veilcrest, but it was still a friendly place for pirates. Kallias was acting Captain of the Leviathan for the moment, only until their true Captain returned from his necessary journey. The burden of leadership was reduced in quiet nights at a tavern, the rest of the crew gone to mingle with some other pirates outside that were also docked nearby with them. Kallias was looking for some time alone from the crew, which was rare, but also very much needed when he felt overwhelmed.

Clearly though, he had little to complain about. Being Quartermaster was a gift; this stranger was more than half nude in the middle of a winter's night and slave to a vampiric creature. Kallias didn't really have anything personal against strigoi or dhampirs, but they were pretty weird. Thralls were weirder. "At least drink something for the warmth. You could probably cut your master with those nips, sheesh."

who?: open to all || capped at 2 replies where?: veilcrest when?: in the now

Kian had tried to tell Valdís that the Tower was a waste of her time, that he had claimed more power for himself in the years following the abandonment of his trials than anything those Olympians could've taught him. She didn't listen, which meant her crew would be without his aid until they returned. Hopefully, she had a crew to return to because The Dreadnought would be in hiding until then. He was too annoyed about his bad gamble to care much about keeping them alive for Valdís to return to.

The Deadlands seemed like the best place to hide. Lady Aetos never committed crimes there, and Kian could adopt a temporary mask of a loyal thrall. It was easy to find a wealthy vampire to bite his neck and even easier to use the blood they ingested to hex the vampire for leverage. He didn't want much, just permission to wear a mask and follow the vampire around Veilcrest as a loyal, leashed thrall in exchange for not inflicting the vampire with unimaginable pain. Everybody won, except Kian, who was beginning to feel shortchanged. A life of opulence in the role of pet was incredibly dull. Moments of independence were far and few between but cherished nonetheless. That's why he wasn't willing to risk losing it. "Forgive me, but my Master's kindness extends so far. If I keep him waiting, he won't let me out by myself any longer," he says worriedly to the one stopping him, trying not to gag as he did. Kian served no one, but his collar and skimpy attire conveyed that his body was meant for the pleasure of a superior. A kept thrall didn't have time to waste. Beneath his mask, his eyes were pointed and focused, but his voice remained as meek and needy as he could manage. "I can feel his hunger growing with each passing second. The worse it gets, the rougher he is with me, which is … so enjoyable, but even I have limits. I hope I haven't offended you? I just really really want to get back to him…"

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365 Days of Men // Day 54 // Michiel Huisman

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MICHIEL HUISMAN 2.22, 2017

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Kallias was overjoyed to see the familiar face, his expression immediately alight with surprise and excitement as he made his way over with hands up like he couldn't believe it. "If it isn't my favorite Gladiator of them all, gracing us commonfolk with his presense." He laughed loudly and clapped the other one on the back, overly-friendly as ever, and then sat down beside him. This fellow Thieves Guild troublemaker had been able to make Kallias a lot of money with his 'sacrifice'. He wasn't even sure if they could call it that when the youngster had been so determined to get caught. But, Kallias was grateful he'd been able to pay off some last debts with the money made off of what the two of them conspired to do. And, clearly, the new Gladiator was doing well for himself if he could hang around the cisterns.

"How are they treating you?" He looked a bit more serious now, hoping things were truly well. Kallias was rarely on land and he'd only got to see one of Yannis' shows. Despite the fact that the other had wanted this, Kallias had inevitably felt a little bit of guilt to have a hand in locking up such a young and promising man.

Who: @kalliastheforward

Kallias had played an oh so vital role in Yannis’ plan to become a gladiator. It had worked for the both of them and Yannis couldn’t be happier that he could help a friend but also get exactly what he wanted. Was it unfair to Penelope? She had provided for their family for so long, lived a dream while he waited patiently, this was his time, even if he had to wait till after the war with the dark to step on to the sand. That did mean he had some free time when he wasn’t training, especially since Dior was in avalon. So meeting up with Kallias was an easy feat.

Yannis was able to get a table at the cisterns before all of them were snatched up by thirsty patrons, tables were rare to be free and the rules were on your feet lose your seat. So Yannis guarded it with a cold stare until he saw Kallias and waved him over. “It’s been to long, sit, sit. Think i owe you a few drinks at the very least.” Yannis had to leave the other alone for as long as it took to come back with four flagons of ale. “Here” he passed two over to Kallias before taking a deep mouthful of his own drink.

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Kallias quickens his steps, not completely deprived of great bedmates enough to want to definitely lock her in for another night but he did at least want to know more about the woman with the silver hair and sharp tongue. Not all the bedmates he'd had in his life left such an impression and he had always found himself curious about her. Druids were fascinating, but this druid seemed a little more... dangerous than some of the other's he'd met. He couldn't pinpoint why, except perhaps that she seemed to clever. She seemed like she knew things. Maybe it was just his instinct. Whatever it was, Kallias was always naturally drawn into danger, which is probably what had led him to sleep with her in the first place.

"Wait, hold on, at least give me something to remember you by this time. More than the silver hair and pirate's attitude." He grinned. "You'd do well on a ship. Give me a name, a title, an occupation. Anything."

“Because I am so very clearly the sort to have a singular drop of blue blood running through my veins, or perhaps more.” Her voice is factual even as she deadpans, her eye roll visible for all. Presentation matters, yes, but she is as comfortable covered with blood and filth as she is gliding around on her most elaborate masks. “I am partial to more luxurious establishments, that can be denied. But darling, you do know what they say about assuming, don’t you?”

Derision remains as she shrugs. “What are you? A magister?” A wave of dismissal as she moves to pass by him. “If this is to be an interrogation, I will pass. I don’t deal well with boredom, and you are dangerously close to making me yawn.”

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Kallias considered the situation, realizing maybe he did want to learn a thing or two about this Queen before he left her in the dust, hopefully never seeing her again after today. She had officially piqued his curiousity. But he had no inkling to spend longer than he needed to in a place that gave him nothing but a sense of resentment and grief. He tried not to imagine a younger version of himself running through these very trees, laughing and howling. It didn't change the fact he'd been on his knees scrubbing decks and pilfering people in dark alleys for cash instead.

"Very humble outlook for someone who, upon first glance, I would have pegged as a noblewoman. Or, at the very least, well off." He raised a brow. "Someone who walks, talks and bows like you didn't just spend their life on a farm."

For what feels like the first time in weeks, Aurea offers an actual genuine laugh. "I like that a lot, actually." She thought Aradia would get a kick out of it, Althea would roll her eyes. "The way I see it, we're both wolves, Alpha or not, bringing up the title every time we talk gets tedious." And she thought people could respect her as a queen without it. There wasn't much she knew about the inner workings of the Feronia pack when she'd first come to town but known Ulrich, she figured he'd quite liked his titles and got a kick out of being referred to in high regard. "I think I just don't need everyone reminding me constantly or I don't want anyone to be afraid to speak with me because of who I am." She points out as they walk the path, eyes flickering to him.

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:Pikashock: Kallias felt his grin became a shadow of what it had been, wonder and shock replacing it as Ryujin looked at him with such earnest sincerity and the severity of what this truly was. The wolf mirrored the seriousness of his Captain, realizing immediately that none of this was done in jest. In the moment, he was so caught off guard that he could hardly believe it was happening. After a moment, he knew he would realize that he had truly been waiting for this a long time, even if it was deep down. Kallias never had been ambitious but his loyalty and devotion had called him to do more for this ship - and this was his chance finally being given to him.

His wrist was taken and as Ryujin raised it, Kallias fisted his fingers and feel the sea air breeze over his skin. His eyes scanned the crew's reaction. A few of them were likely disappointed it wasn't them, others were likely as shocked as him and some probably saw this coming. He looked at their faces, at the wood and planks of this ship, and listened as Ryujin's voice boomed over everything and everyone. Inevitably, the cheering and playful pirate jeering came and Kallias smiled wide with his teeth as he let it all sink in. He let out his own cheer, the sound like a mix between a yell and a howl of victory. Many of his closest friends among the crew did the same in his favor, grinning wide. And as he turned his gaze back to Ryujin, he felt a sense of gratitude and pride he never had before. The crew laughed at the Captain's jokes, once more jeering playfully at Kallias, but he just soaked it all in with joy.

A couple of their crew came up to clap him on the back, mess his hair, and congratulate him as Ryujin turned for drinks. The more hedonist among the pirates were already calling for celebratory drinking and games as Kallias turned to bring his full attention back to Ryu. He took the glass with a grin, one that's humour started to fade away. Their glasses clinked with wood over the sound of celebratory men and women nearby and he took a huge swig before speaking. "It's more of an honor to me than I can explain, Ryu. You know I won't disappoint you. I'll jump into a sea serpent's jaws before I let that happen. For my honor, for your's... and for your father's." He said this sincerely, having no idea about the patricide.

Whatever freedoms of the sea Ryu once had were since exchanged for being chained to a darkness he did not yet understand. The faimen did not truly believe there was to be salvation in Avalon, but he had to try, even if it meant betraying all else, Ryu had already betrayed the core of who he was as a person and as Captain of the Leviathan. Intrinsically, he knew this man besides him was his authentic self, purged from any material or binding chains. Enslaved to the moon perhaps, but fulfilled with senses of freedom that Ryu could only dream of chasing after. It proved that Kallias was the perfect choice of First Mate; he'd been with the ship when Ryu was just a mere child, when his father still heralded over the Leviathan and commanded it through the Azure Sea.

If any were to be leery of Ryu's ascent, it was those who'd seen him grow; crew members that could not look past the boy he'd once been even if his birthright damned him to this position. His father never spoke highly to the idea of Captain; it was something Ryu's father loved, a position held dearly, but not something the man envisioned for his child. Funny how, through death, Ryu's father would seemingly get what he envisioned for his son; to have Ryu venture to Avalon, even if only for a moments glance. The Leviathan, the crew, they'd be under his command until his last breath, that Ryu was sure of and no tenebrous energy, no preternatural darkness, could take that from him.

"I've never been more serious," any playful jest was settled as Ryu became stern; an act of a Captain with a message to uphold. He grabbed Kallias' arm, held it high as though he was a victor over a longstanding battle, "First Mate?" Yelled out as eyes scanned his crew gauging any reaction despite his own decision being firmly made. There was no other who could uphold the position, no other who knew the intricacies of the ship with his eyes closed; Kallias was just as much a son to Ryu's father as the faiman himself. "Don't you think he's waited long enough?" Grinning now to the rest of the crew, he nudged Kallias again, "Through two captains he's remained loyal to the boon of the Leviathan, to become first mate, to be the quartermaster, I say it's the least we can do for the poor sap." Ryu let's Kallias' arm fall, walking to a barrel of mead and filling two glasses heartily. Walking over, he extends one glass to Kallias, holding his own upwards, "To you, Quartermaster."

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Michiel Huisman in ‘The Ottoman Lieutenant’

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Michiel Huisman by Anders Overgaard for GQ USA, March 2016