apostatize

[apostatize]

sorry y'all I'm taking us back to 2014—

[apostatize]

Ah, it's mother's day, is it? He should probably find some way to do something for his mother... ah, maybe some fruit? He'll have to look for some-

[apostatize]

"YOU HEARD HIM, AUNTIE- TWO FOR HIM," Thaddeus hums, already taking one of the skewers and biting in. A delighted sound immediately leaves his throat, as if he's tasting nirvana. To him, it's there closest it gets without having a lot of meat involved, and he flashes the auntie running the stall a closed-lip smile, cheeks stuffed with candied fruit.

He at least has the wherewithal to swallow before speaking, flashing another brilliant smile. The poor stall owner looks as if she might have a heart attack at how sweet his face looks stuffed with food.

"Ah, that really hits the spot- three more please? I can wait until his are done."

Then his head turns to Eiden, and he doesn't bother swallowing before speaking to him.

"What're you asking me for? It's your snack. Get what you enjoy."

Eiden's a little shocked by the sudden transformation. A whole another person seems to stand there now. Eiden witnesses in disbelief how the guy totally gets the stall auntie wrapped around his finger in an instant too.

Baffled, he blinks as he meets his eyes as he turns to him. He glimpses at the selection of fruits.

" Ahh, uh... "

So he follows the suit flashing a bright smile at the lady. Bright as the sun it might be though his voice still fumbles a little:

" Two...? I think the 2nd option seems good... Peach, strawberry and tangerine, right? "

[apostatize]

newest chapters got me like [vibrates in spanish] about my boy so starter call- cap's at two for the moment, thank u!

[apostatize]

HONESTLY, HE'S LOOKING, BUT HE CAN'T really tell what's pants and what's pocket. It's impressive he can find anything in the expanse of them, but he supposes they're his pants. Knowing where to put his hands in them is only normal.

"Well, not gonna find me complaining," Thaddeus agrees, shrugging and bringing the bottle to hover just over his mouth. He pours a generous amount into his mouth, and swallows with only a faint shiver- not as strong as he'd thought- before handing it over to the blond. "Titus then," he agrees amicably- because funny as 'blondie' is, he's not prone to actually giving many people nicknames. Not actual ones, at least. "I'm Thaddeus. And I'm not scared of heights- but I am wondering how we're getting up on any rooftops."

Is it strange to introduce himself with his Disciple name? Possibly. But he's been Thaddeus for long enough now, that hearing himself addressed as anything else feels strange. He lets his smile go sly, and shrugs, arms folding under his chest.

"Trust me, my ego's not something anyone but me needs to be worrying about."

Besides, it's not like he was being a good person, really, so being called a 'savior' doesn't feel like it's on the mark.

as they start to walk towards an undecided destination, Titus busies himself with cleaning up his face a little. his companion has no scratches on him, hardly a single hair out of place, and Titus himself looked like he'd been through the wringer. fishing a handkerchief from some unknown spot in his pants, he's suddenly glad he has something to focus on other than the sight of the man licking alcohol from the length of his hand.

man.

"Wouldn't even bother with glasses, honestly. Feels like a "drink right outta the bottle" kind of night, yeah?" he pauses, mind briefly stuck on the thought of both of their lips on the same bottle neck. "I ain't got cooties or anything. And, uh, my lip already stopped bleedin' and everything!" lame-ass excuse for an indirect kiss, but he was nothing if not an opportunist. "Which...you're not afraid of heights are ya? There's this rooftop nearby with a nice view. Perfect place to chill."

he shoves the handkerchief back into a pocket, face mostly unsullied, and chuckles. oh, yeah. introductions.

"Name's Titus, though 'blondie' ain't such a bad nickname. Yourself? I can't go around callin' you my savior; might go to your head."

[apostatize]

"Yeah, that's basically it, little sis," he replies with an absent nod, still a little stuck on the concept of his soul being affected by... well. Anything. Karmic debt was one thing, but actual interference from a place seemed like something to be at least a little concerned about.

"...what do you mean you don't know reflexes? It's like..." How can he explain that the concept of being able to react to things is something so intrinsic that the concept of someone not understanding it is baffling to him? He shrugs, because while he's smart in his own way, the idea of explaining something that's- to him- intrinsic feels beyond him. Like explaining how to breathe.

In response to her question, however, he bats at one of the arms still attached, and the upper portion of the dummy spins loosely- separate from the middle and lower sections.

"It's better when they move, for reflexes. Still ones are best for practicing your form. And, you know, not being very reassuring there, little sis. Kind of like my soul just the way it is, I'm pretty sure."

"Vibe? I will assume you are referring to the coloration of my hair. If so, then yes, vibe I believe is the right word… If I understand it right.."

Her voice trails off slightly. Actually, she isn't sure if she understands the word 'vibe' thinking about it now. In passing, she's heard it used in many different ways, used to refer to a soul, a place, even animals or one's looks. Maybe, it was a multi use one.

"Reflexes? No, I actually do not know. I am finding there are still many things I don't know which word goes to what, and my time here has only opened it up to even more than I originally thought."

She makes her way over to the broken training dummy, giving it a poke.

"How does something wooden help with such a thing? If I may ask? And I would not know, this city is strange in what it can do, it very well could affect a soul."

[apostatize]

♝, ♖

❇ life philosophy headcanons.

♝ — Is your muse concerned about being remembered after they die? If so, do they have anything specific notions about what they want to be remembered for?

Already answered!

♖ — Do people, in your muse’s opinion, ever really change? Do they believe themselves to be capable of changing?

He thinks people can learn to act differently, but not really change who they are from the outset. He knows for a fact that who he is and who he pretends to be, sometimes, are two very different people. So he's not going to act as though other people can't at least behave as if they've become something else- be that better or worse- if they really want to.

As for himself... well. He's always changing. He has to, if he wants to stay alive. He just doesn't know if it's the kind of change other people would mean when they say it.

[apostatize]

♔ ♘ ♙ ♝

❇ life philosophy headcanons.

♔ — Does your muse believe people are innately good or innately bad? Why do they believe this?

He doesn't think people are either inherently. He thinks they're made one or the other by their circumstances and the actions they take because of or in spite of them. Sure, you can say someone was just 'born' one or the other, but he thinks that's just an easy way to slip into making assumptions about people. A person isn't inherently any more good or bad than any other animal- it's their choices that make them fall into one category or another.

♘ — Do they believe humanity/their species, as a whole, to be moving in the ‘right’ direction or the ‘wrong’ one? Why do they believe this?

Honestly? He's probably never given a thought to humanity as a whole. Thaddeus tends to keep to the bubble of the existence he's trying to protect, and doesn't give much thought to external things unless they're actively bothering his home. Besides, what other people do really isn't his business- everyone makes their own choices, and they have to deal with the consequences of them, that's as far as he thinks, really.

♙ — How hypocritical is your muse? If they can be hypocritical, do they realise this about themselves? How do they reconcile with it?

Oh, he definitely can be very hypocritical, but he also doesn't... really care. Thaddeus is a very selfish person in many ways, and one of them is that he doesn't always apply things to himself the way that he would to others. He realizes this, but he just... can't be bothered to think that what he does can be considered the same as when someone else does the same thing.

♝ — Is your muse concerned about being remembered after they die? If so, do they have anything specific notions about what they want to be remembered for?

Nah. He's neither heroic (in his opinion) or attention-seeking enough for that. Oh sure, he's a showoff, and he'll always gladly put himself out there when he feels like it might be fun but... Apart from protecting his home, Thaddeus is someone who tends to prefer to exist in the 'now' rather than think too hard about the future.

(It's unfortunately likely that it's because he doesn't think he'll have to be worried about living that long, but hey-)

[apostatize]

❇ life philosophy headcanons.

Send a symbol, receive an answer. For multimuses, specify muse:

♚ — Does your muse believe in objective right and wrong? Why do they hold this view? ♔ — Does your muse believe people are innately good or innately bad? Why do they believe this? ♞ — What does your muse believe happens after death? Do they believe in an afterlife and why/why not? If they do, what do they imagine this afterlife to be? ♘ — Do they believe humanity/their species, as a whole, to be moving in the ‘right’ direction or the ‘wrong’ one? Why do they believe this? ♖ — Do people, in your muse’s opinion, ever really change? Do they believe themselves to be capable of changing? ♟ — Does your muse believe in free will? Do they believe that people are mostly free? ♛ — Does your muse believe in luck? What about fate? ♙ — How hypocritical is your muse? If they can be hypocritical, do they realise this about themselves? How do they reconcile with it? ♕ — What does leading a ‘good’ life mean to your muse? Are they satisfied with the choices they make? ♝ — Is your muse concerned about being remembered after they die? If so, do they have anything specific notions about what they want to be remembered for? ♡  — How would your muse define love? Do they believe in soulmates? Do they believe this definition of love is achievable?

[apostatize]

"NOT YET, BUT YOU WILL BE IF YOU KEEP sulking like one," Thaddeus replies, still looking vaguely amused. Still, he listens as Eiden gives him a tour as they go, trying to remember the ones that sound the best for future perusal. Not that he's a particularly picky eater- but better to eat good food than have to simply make do with the bad.

The information that the stalls aren't permanent surprises him- business back home is all about being reliable- but he supposes given how popular the street seems to be, maybe that's not an issue here. Either way, he can smell it on the air when they start getting closer- the particular syrupy smell of melted sugar. He marks the bubble tea for the return trip, but immediately perks when he spots a few already-made skewers in his periphery.

"Auntie, I'll take three to start," he says immediately, smiling bright and charming- a world apart from his earlier mischievous look. The widening of his eyes makes him look years younger, and the stall owner looks as though she'd drop a few extra into his hands if she were a weaker person. As he waits, he turns to Eiden, head cocked like an overeager puppy.

"Did you want one?"

" Now, I'm a child... ? "

He's too mentally checked out to draw any conclusions, inaccurate or not, from that though. Instead Eiden's focusing to his task in hand. It's not long he's swapped into different mode like the mishap hadn't even happened:

" There's some really good fried chicken over there, great noodles over there-- " he chatters up as they go on, " honestly there's tons of good places in here, I can't say I remember them all and I think they change the stalls up on pretty daily basis. So I'm not sure, it might not be there today--- "

The scents mix into a thick cloud, grease and scattered ingredients mixing into one, occasionally growing stronger when they pass them. Slowly they're passing to sweeter territory--

" Bubbletea aaaand--- ah! Yes! "

He takes a full stop, where the stallholder is already coating strawberries---

" Here it is!!! "

[apostatize]

UGH, BORING. THADDEUS'S EXPRESSION visibly loses a good portion of its amused facade at the response, and he sighs as if both put-upon and disappointed. Whether he's truly either one is something only he really knows. When he straightens, his fingers drum against his bicep lightly, and he seems to contemplate for all of five seconds before he asks:

"Do you know what fun is?"

It's very blunt- almost to the point of dismissiveness, only he keeps going, rolling his head on his neck and rubbing the back of it as if it aches.

"Or at least how not to sound like someone who's about to get on a soapbox and start lecturing about the end of days?"

Another sigh, weight shifting to turn away.

"Honestly, little one, maybe don't drag the giant evil sword around if you don't want people asking about it. Seems like the best way to avoid the whole 'being inflicted on mortals' thing."

          THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE calculating eyes that made callum's alarm bells ring, the whisper of danger curling along the back of his neck and making the hair on his nape stand up. callum was no prey, but the act of being a hunter meant that he could recognize when others might stand on equal ground to him. it meant that when his instincts murmured to him that this wasn't a person that could be brushed off in a fight, he listened.

     those feeling had never steered him wrong before, after all.

     ❝ I would prefer nothing. ❞ the warlock's body turned slightly in response to the other man's renewed attempt to lay eyes on hazirawn, booted feet sliding smoothly over the ground. ❝ This blade is not meant to be inflicted on mortals. I assure you, ❞ callum's eyes attempted to bore into the other, his tone deathly serious, ❝ you do not want to hear his voice. ❞

     hazirawn was a weapon to be caged, a godkiller thrown to earth. callum was the only thing stopping him from being used to commit unspeakable evils yet again, and in this moment he was keenly reminded.

[apostatize]

THADDEUS IS, FOR ALL INTENTS AND purposes, not really someone who does that kind of thing out of the goodness of his heart. That he got to right two wrongs at the same time as he got to work out some of his frustrations was simply a nice coincidence. Of course, he realizes he should probably at least try to be a bit better about both his temper and his intentions if he doesn't want to disappoint his xiōngdi, but...

Old habits and all.

Thankfully, he's pulled from thinking too hard about it by the answer from his companion for the evening, who he beams back at as he adjusts his glasses on his head. He can feel how askew they are, and it bugs him, just a bit, in the back of his head until they're seated properly in his hair again. When the blond looks back at the bar, Thaddeus looks back as well, and then cracks a lopsided grin.

"Hmmm? Ah, nah, don't worry about it. They got bigger things to worry about." And if that isn't ominous. "Ah... I forgot to grab glasses," Thaddeus grumbles as he begins walking.

Then the side of his palm collides with the still factory-sealed neck of the bottle — and the top of it comes off, neat as you please, like a champagne bottle struck with a knife at just the right angle. Alcohol spills over the side of his hand, and he transfers it over to his other hand, lapping the booze from his skin idly.

"So. You got a name? Or am I going to be calling you 'blondie from the bar' the entire time we're drinking?"

Titus watches with awe (and a little envy) as the stranger waltzes into the bar he was just kicked out of with nothing but a smile on his face, returning a short time later with not a scratch on him. huh! he has enough wherewithal to be slightly embarrassed about his own sheer lack of skill, but he's mostly just impressed. guess this guy had some real skill...or at least enough to take out some minor bar scum.

something Titus hadn't been able to manage.

ah, well-- he can beat himself up about it tomorrow. for now, the enticing looking bottle of liquor held up by the equally enticing man is enough to hold his attention.

"Heeey, that was pretty great--!" not like he asked anyone to stick up for him, but...he's gotta admit, the feeling is kinda nice. "Damn right I wanna share! That's some top shelf shit..." Titus whistles, but it's less at the booze and more at his companions performance. "Man, that was a cake walk for ya, huh?"

then, a small glance over his shoulder.

"Uh...why do I feel like we should get outta here?"

[apostatize]

"...is this what the kids call 'genre blindness'?"

[apostatize]

"S' THAT RIGHT?" THADDEUS HUMS, mouth twitching in amusement as he continues watching the blond quietly. When the arm is extended out toward him, he takes it and pulls- carefully- and then pats the blond on the shoulder gently. "Wait here a sec, yeah?"

Opening the door into the bar, Thaddesus steps in, inquiring cheerfully about the 'beat up guy outside', to which there are a few jeering answers as the door swings shut behind him. There's only the sound of the music from inside, then three swift, loud crashes, and Thaddeus exits the bar with an arm around a slighter figure, who he ushers off gently, with a smile. In his other hand, an unopened and expensive-looking bottle of booze, which he swings up onto his shoulder.

"Mmm, well- none of them are going to be putting hands on anyone for a while, with their arms that busted." He doesn't look so much as winded. At most, his hair looks ruffled, and the glasses atop his head are a little askew. "Gave me this," he shakes the bottle a little, seemingly amused, "to get me to stop. So since it's technically 'cause of you I went in there to handle that- wanna share?"

if he was in any right state of mine, he would love to explain that he was not just some drunk guy outside of a bar, but rather the lord of a city-state, the prince of an island country, and the sworn brother to the emperor of his land. that was all...pretentious, though, and Titus rather liked to stray away from it while he was here. get back to his roots, and all that.

Titus peers up at him, scowl more at his circumstances than his words. "You should see the other guy," he grumbles, though know his words mean nothing. he lost, fair and square, and now he had to lick his wounds in front of a cute guy. karma or some shit--

"Some jackass was gettin' handsy with and mouthin' off to their partner so I stepped in, y'know? Guess I shoulda stayed out of it, none of my business, but..." he couldn't stay idle while someone got talked down to. he couldn't. "Guess they had more pull there than I had, though. Beat up and kicked out lickety-split."

the ground feels nice, believe it or not, but he thinks the warmth of the strangers hand will feel nicer. he extends an arm, looking up with a pleading, warm golden eye. a silent plea for help to his feet.

[apostatize]

THADDEUS ONLY LAUGHS AGAIN; A BRIGHT, cheery sort of laugh, entirely too boisterous- almost boyish. His elbow finds Eiden's ribs with entirely too much accuracy despite the fact that his arms never uncross, and he shakes his head.

"Think that says more about you than anything else, kiddo," he retorts, and gives a little hop to catch up as Eiden's speed picks up. He really is a little too easy to make fun of, and the reactions are quick and expressive. He could tease him some more, but for the moment he decides that enough is enough. He can bring it back up again later.

"Sure, sure, lead the way. You can tell me what else is good here while we walk."

" But but--- You were saying it wasn't height so that was my next thought somehow ok? "

He can tell he's being teased but it's hard to retort really when someone's got a perfectly good point in there. He's glancing him so closely too - maybe he does think he's some kind of freak...

Forget about it! He can't unsay things after all so better move on and face the future!!! Eiden begins to take quicker strides, ahead of the other now.

" C'mon! You wanted some tanghulu right!!! Let's go already!!! "

[apostatize]

DRUNKS OUTSIDE OF BARS AREN'T ANYTHING he hasn't had to deal with before. This one though, catches him off guard if only because of his complete disregard for his surroundings. Thaddeus blinks down at the head of bright golden hair, and almost reaches down to yank him off by it. But a closer look shows him the guy's beat up as it is, and making it worse... well. There's nothing to gain by that. Besides, this guy is either a problem waiting to happen, or more entertaining than the bar- and Thaddeus is more than willing to roll the dice about which it is.

So he half-turns, bending at the waist to peer at the man's face- pretty, if bloody- and gives an acknowledging hum.

"That right? Sure you're not just mad cause you got your butt kicked in there, little one?" Never mind that the lanky man is probably taller than him- height's never stopped him before. The arms across his chest shift, and he straightens again, looking toward the entrance.

"What'd you get kicked out for?"

@apostatize

Unceremoniously, Titus's ass hits the pavement. admittedly, it had been quite some time since the thief had been kicked out of anywhere, let alone a bar; he had to be on his best behavior back home, but here...free from the shackles of responsibility, he was slipping back into bad habits. it's not like he tried to get kicked out of the bar, but someone had been talking smack and picking on their partner--! he was just supposed to sit by and let that happen?

he supposed he had thrown the first punch. lot of good that did him.

"Whatever! I didn't wanna keep drinkin' here anyways," Titus groans, wiping blood from his nose. his knuckles hurt and a quick swipe of his tongue across his lips stings from a cut. fuck. maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought, if he'd lost so easily.

he goes to fall backwards and take a short rest on the pavement, but his back makes contact with the lower legs of someone behind him.

"..? Oh, uh...Trust me, pal, you don't wanna go in there. Buncha losers."

[apostatize]

Ask my character "How do you feel about ______?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.

Ⓦ