Feral [Ganymedes]

[Artemis]

[googlefont="Condiment:400"]

[presto] [/presto]

Brody O'Rourke you shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am TITANIUM Brody couldn't remember the last time the days dragged on as much as they did lately. It would seem that Brody hadn't managed to inherit either of his parents' patience, and never was it more apparent when someone had to make him slow down and stop trying to rush things. Even with the constant reminder to take baby steps (he was trying, after Matthew's suggestion, to be gentler with himself), he was still doing a pretty thorough job of pissing off his therapists chomping at the bit wanting to be allowed to work out harder, to try a different method of therapy, lets go hurry up what's taking so long. The fact that he wasn't allowed to return to work at the Detention Center until medical had cleared him was only adding to Brody's restlessness; it was absolutely no help, either, that Brody's shrink was beginning to express doubt that he'd be psychologically recovered enough to return to work anytime soon. Lieutenant Rochelle had taken him aside and warned him, as gently as she could, that her superiors had forced her hand to start looking for a new billet for Brody to fill. He was trying so hard not to get discouraged. Spending time with Matthew helped, at least; helping him with construction on the house, home cooking and shadow boxing when conditions permitted, it had served so far to give Brody some measure of normalcy that he had always known he missed, but never knew to what degree. It was still a challenge, dragging himself away from the privacy and safety of his barracks, but if he avoided the path that took him past the Ruze household, it was bearable. ... and avoided the garrison's gun ranges. That was a demon Brody knew he wasn't ready to face yet, and had no desire to find out how deep that scar ran, not when he still jolted awake at night hearing the sound of gunfire and seeing a burst of fire erupt from the barrel of his own gun, pointed at its owner in a cruel twist of fate. It was peaceful now, at least. The weather was finally becoming warm again, and in the golden hours of early evening, it was quiet and comfortable with foot traffic milling around on the sidewalks, shops just closing up for the night, and the Peacekeepers off work heading out for some leisure time on the town. Though there was nothing compelling Brody to leave, he found himself in plainclothes wandering (not so aimlessly) around the streets; he stayed close to the garrison for his own security, not wanting to have to travel long to retreat back to his barracks when he couldn't bear to be outside (and unaccompanied, no less) by himself anymore. One of the cruisers on evening patrol was coming back from its rounds, though the engine was making a rather odd noise as it drove past-- *BANG* The sound of the gunshot was hollow in his ears; Brody only felt his body jerk, staggering backwards against Kyanite where he'd shoved her behind him. For the briefest moment, there was no pain; Brody looked down, almost disbelieving that he'd been hit. A dark stain was blossoming out from a small hole low in his chest, near his stomach. Brody didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the strength left his legs, hands clutched over the bleeding wound as he sagged against Kyanite, feeling her arms wrap around him as she tried to cushion his fall. Every nerve in his stomach was alight with fire, and a cry of pain caught in his throat as his fingers tightened over the wound; anything to stop the bleeding, anything to stop the pain. The only noise in his ears was Brody's own pounding heartbeat, suddenly lightheaded as he was taking in air too fast; he didn't know why he was here, or how he'd gotten there. All he knew was that he had to get away. Distantly he heard a couple of voices, but he didn't know who they belonged to or what they were saying as he fled in the opposite direction he'd come, ignoring the phantom pain in his abdomen to summon whatever energy he had to run as far and as fast as he could. ffffff - Brody O'Rourke 8761ac - Elias Storge

[Ganymede]

The shop had an incredibly quiet closing hour. May was that one transitory month that caused the greatest turning point in what people wore. He could see it all around as everyone was confused if they still needed their heavier jackets. Shorts were dotting up as they braved a less predictable climate for the day. It wasn’t quite hot but it still wasn’t cold and no one had braved their summer wardrobes yet. Once the heat waves come in all the summer suits will roll under the tailor’s sewing machine, light weight dresses will be in demand, and straw hats (Elias’ favorite) will be picked up with new bursts of colors adorning wardrobes.

Of course the majority of his work will be centered around the Peacekeepers and Victors, but the wealth of the district have a craving for more reasonable fashion and the tailor was quite the resource for those considering some changes to their closet. Elias was happy to feel the time for light colored pants were in order and pulled out a nice pair of copper colored paints to wear with a tan blazer. He liked the strict formality the shop dress code upheld in the winter, but during the warm months it was relaxed as they allow more playful personal styles to come out.

Due to the fact that the shop was a wasteland and his manager wanted to enjoy the fresh warm air, Elias was let out right at closing time. He was incredibly pleased with his luck today and even went to the corner shop for a treat of shaved ice despite it was still before dinner. Now Elias was stealing the chance of stretch his legs and enjoyed a more scenic walk home, lapping right through the heart of town. His home still wasn’t too far off, just a block or two at this point, all depending on which street you turned down. The sun was starting to get low but he did not fret about the light in his eyes. Even if it was shining in his face the warmth and comfort it loaned was too great to pass up.

His shaved ice was dripping out the cone and down his hand. Damn him for not eating quickly enough! Elias pulled a napkin from his pocket and stopped for a second to make sure he got all the drippings off his fingers before they had the chance to reach his watch. There is nothing worse than a sticky—WHAM!

Before he could say ‘taffeta’ Elias found himself flat on his ass. He had no idea what just happened but he definitely had the air punched out of him and a previously enjoyable syrup-based dessert covering him. It took him a moment, but when his wits came back to him he realized he was currently under another man undergoing a terrible bout of mania. Elias was a bit shaken but clearly was not the mess the other was. When done gaping, he grabbed the man by the shoulders to keep him still.

“Sir are you okay?” He said, trying to be loud enough to be heard but not too loud to scare. Now that he was able to get a good view of the man’s face he was able to recognize him. The Corporal O’Rourke was a client of Elias’ shop and someone he knew fairly well in a complete business sense. “Corporal, can you hear me?” Of course he probably couldn’t hear anything in his fit, but Elias grabbed Brody’s face and tried to steady him into make eye contact. He had no idea how to get someone so disconnected from the world to realize where they were, but this seemed to be the best thing he could think of besides giving the Peacekeeper a slap which would probably be far more dangerous thing to do to a trained warrior.

[Artemis]

Brody didn't know where he was going, only following the singular instinct to get away from there. It didn't matter where, as long as it was as far away as he could get from that gunfire sound.

Not again, don't wanna get shot again, please please please not again--

The train of thought came to an abrupt halt as he rounded a corner, running full boar into another body and sending them both to the ground with winding force. For the briefest moment, Brody's fight-or-flight instinct switched firmly on to 'fight'; Jins wasn't going disarm him again, couldn't let Jins get the better of him and break his ribs again and--

"Sir, are you okay?"

That voice didn't belong to Jins, and it slowly occurred to Brody that the rather startled-looking face gazing up at him didn't belong to Jins either.

Why was the face below him so familiar? With his heart beating a mile a minute, Brody couldn't for the life of him remember where he knew this man from...

“Corporal, can you hear me?”

He did, but only distantly, and the words themselves hardly registered in his mind; the man's hands touched his face, however gently, and Brody flinched back almost violently at the contact, scrambling backwards to get away. He didn't know how far he had run, only that the strength was gone from his legs and that instead of getting up and bolting away again, he succeeded in landing on his ass still facing the familiar-but-not-quite man in front of him, body coiled tightly ready to flee.

How did this guy know him?

"Who are you?" He demanded, "How do you know who I am??"

ffffff - Brody O'Rourke
8761ac - Elias Storge

[Ganymede]

Elias saw a change in Brody’s eyes that wasn’t completely realization but he did seem to return to the real world. At soon as his fit was over he was scrambling off the tailor, a quick motion that scared Elias at first and caused his body to seize up. Now with the Corporal off him Elias could suddenly feel the tenseness between the two, a surprise collision would normally do this. But the degree of distress from Brody and, more surprisingly, Elias was higher than expected. Elias wondered what happened to make the Peacekeeper so unstable.

"Who are you? How do you know who I am?"

Elias gaped for a second trying to figure out how to react. He always assumed Brody knew who he was since they see each other quasi-regularly. At least he knew the Peacekeeper well enough, doing his fittings and usually being the one to charge him for the work done. Was it possible he wasn’t recognized just because of the elated state he was in or what Elias truly not someone Brody never thought about? He didn’t want to give thought to that idea.

“Elias, I work at the tailoring shop,” he replied, his voice was as stressed as Brody looked. The tailor slowly came to his feet, holding his hand out in an attempt to not startle the Peacekeeper any more. The cone from his shaved ice tumbled to the ground and he finally realized the entire front of his shirt and pants were wet, damn his sweet tooth. “Sir, are you okay? Do you need help?” If Brody had no idea who Elias is there would be no reason for him to trust the civilian but offering help seemed like a smarter thing to do rather than holding a conversation of who-what-when.

If he had been running from something the best thing would to offer save haven. Elias’ home is not too far off, perhaps the Corporal needed that more than anything. He had no way how to word the question and before he could think of an appropriate wording his mouth already blurted what he was thinking: “Do you need my house?” Elias, the incredibly smooth and tactful man, was nowhere to be seen.

[Artemis]

Brody didn't honestly know what he was expecting the man to do, but he was in no frame of mind to examine the thought too closely. His eyes stayed trained warily on the man, though he wasn't sure if his legs would support him if Brody had to make a run for it.

It felt like being trapped, just like at the bottom of the stairs with a gun pointed at him, it was going to go off at any second, Kyanite, we need to go...

A new wave of adrenalin washed over him, he felt strong enough to run, find someplace safe--

“Elias, I work at the tailoring shop,” He said.

The man Elias got slowly to his feet, like he was approaching a frightened animal, hand extended as if Brody might take it. Brody's eyes tracked his every movement, even the cone falling to the ground from his lap; whatever he'd been eating moments before, he was wearing it now.

“Sir, are you okay? Do you need help?”

He wanted to say no. Tell this Elias guy to get away from him and go find someplace to hide until he was in control of himself again.

Maybe it was the familiarity of his face (though Brody couldn't remember if Elias really was his tailor), or the nonthreatening body language or the sincere expression on his face as he asked if Brody needed help; as much as he wanted to run, Brody didn't move.

“Do you need my house?”

It was then (and only then) that Brody looked away from Elias, still not quite grounded enough to remember where he was, as he looked around the alleyway he could scarcely remember running into.

How far had he run?

Numbly, he nodded at Elias's offer, shakily getting to his feet, all but forgetting about the hand offered to him.

ffffff - Brody O'Rourke
8761ac - Elias Storge

[Ganymede]

Well, Brody definitely seemed to have completely come down at this point. That’s especially good for Elias since he had no idea how to handle a hysterical Peacekeeper. At that point it would probably put the both of them into danger since a Peacekeeper would be trained to protect themselves and someone who didn’t have a grip on reality would be reckless. Brody was certainly aware enough of his surroundings and in control enough to get to his feet.

Obviously he was still a little skittish. Elias watched him with a tad of worry as he looked about, trying to figure out where he ended up. Brody was evasive for physical contact and the tailor did not push him. He started to lead the Peacekeeper down the street, slowly at first to make sure he was actually following. He was aware that they were now going in the opposite direction Brody was running, but he probably isn’t even aware of directions still.

Regardless, Elias’ little abode was just across the street and a few doors down. It was nothing big or boastful, but he took pride in the care he put into his house. Like with everything else he was meticulous in presentation, so this two story house squashed by a many other copies definitely stood out. The soft blue color, the perennials lining the walk, hydrangeas blossoming right outside the windows. This was definitely not the time to be admiring his own green thumb, so Elias quickly lead his companion up to the door and opened it.

The inside was far less decorated, some would call it bare and sterile. Elias called it clean. The entrance hall just had a small desk with a vase of daisies. The kitchen to the immediate right just had a small breakfast table and two chairs. The next room over was the living room with a coach, a coffee table, a round woven rug, a mostly empty bookcase, and of course the mandatory television. The end of a hall held a thin circular staircase leading upstairs. It was a small house and Elias loved it.

He lead Brody to the couch without the slightest idea of what to really do with him. “Do you want water? Food?” It was later in the day, about five, so Elias was feeling quite peckish. He didn’t know if he had enough of anything for a guest to eat or what Brody would even want to eat. After the ordeal he might not even have an appetite or one so ravenous to eat a feast. If that was the case Elias would need to go grocery shopping to replenish whatever his surprise house guest would eat. That raised the next question on how late Brody would be there. The tailor hoped he would take enough time he needed, but he still had to work tomorrow and felt leaving a dazed and confused Peacekeeper in his house unattended might bring some trouble.

[Artemis]

Brody couldn't rightly tell what was more disconcerting; the fact that he couldn't determine where he was, or the fact that he was lost with a man who, despite that Brody knew he looked familiar, he couldn't for the life of him remember for certain if Elias was in fact his tailor (or if Elias was really even his name).

He was larger than Brody to boot, and with Careers being a dime a dozen in District 2, well... those odds didn't bode well, if his intentions weren't as good as they seemed. And he without his weapon, yet another insult to add to his injury with the precarious mental state he was in...

At least it meant Elias couldn't shoot him with it.

Elias led him out of the alleyway, walking slowly and looking back every once and a while to see if Brody was still following him; he did, but kept his distance, tensed to bolt again at a second's notice if need be. He didn't recognize the area around him, only vaguely aware that they were heading back in the direction he'd fled from.

The walk itself was only a few minutes, when they paused in front of a soft blue house with a flourishing garden surrounding it; it was quaint, and though the inside was sparsely decorated it was homey. Utterly foreign, compared to Brody's barracks and his parents' home, but beggars couldn't be choosers and far more than he wanted the familiarity of his own residence, he wanted to be off the streets and away from who or whatever had produced that gunshot sound.

“Do you want water? Food?”

Brody's eyes flicked back to Elias hearing the question, having forgotten for a moment he was there. His body wanted both; his mind wanted neither. He shook his head numbly, closing his eyes and trying to remember the breathing exercises his therapist had drilled into his head for episodes just like this one; the Peacekeepers would notice in short time that Brody hadn't checked in by curfew (because if nothing else, the military was damn good at accounting for its people), and patrols would be sent out to find him.

He just had to hold on for that long.

ffffff - Brody O'Rourke
8761ac - Elias Storge

[Ganymede]

Although Brody rejected the offers, Elias did not feel completely comfortable to just stand in the same room as the Peacekeeper. He couldn’t really tell if it was a breach of privacy or not. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment before deciding to get the water anyways. He took his time and made enough noise so Brody could hear what he was doing. Finding the only few plastic cups he owned, Elias filled two with a little ice and a lot of cold water. Before taking them out he checked to see what he could possibly make for dinner. He had a lot of rice and not a whole lot of much else. He’d have to get creative.

Returning to the living room, Elias found Brody had fallen asleep on the couch. He seemed awfully peaceful but still rather uncomfortable curled up on the couch. Pausing for a moment, Elias considered waking him to offer a bed to sleep in. Figuring that was weird, he placed the cups on the table and picked up a throw pillow. Elias took the time to fluff it and sneak it under Brody’s neck so he didn’t wake up with any kinks. He had a blanket somewhere but couldn’t remember where he had put it once the cold months were over.

Again, hesitating in the doorway, the tailor returned to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. He was not all that hungry anymore but there was no way he was going to fully forgo a meal. He prepared a pot to boil and pulled out some frozen chicken strips he forgot he had. Somewhere he had white pepper oil and some lemons recently bought from the market.

Cooking for Elias was always a meditative experience. He could easily reflect on his day and the stresses he had to endure while flames flashed and oil splashed. It was a far more involved skill for him than sewing where he could just turn off his mind and pass the time. Before he knew it the rice was done and the chicken was perfectly browned and seasoned. He took off the heat and chopped the chicken to manageable slices. Elias had no idea if he should expect the Peacekeeper to wake up and eat at the table or just leave his plate next to the cups.

Oh dear the water! One of those was for Elias. He poked his head in the room with Brody. “You awake? Dinner is ready,” He tentatively called in, unsure of what kind of response he would get.

[Artemis]

As hard as Brody tried to get his senses and panic under control, breathing exercises quickly gave way to hyperventilation; the last thing Brody could really recall was becoming incredibly lightheaded, and curling up on the couch before he could faint. He was vaguely aware of Elias walking around the room, doing something (he didn't know what), and then suddenly being very quiet for a while (or had Brody drifted off?).

“You awake? Dinner is ready,” He said sometime later, rousing Brody a little from his sleep.

There was a pillow under his head that hadn't been there before, and as he blinked his vision back into focus, there was a glass of water on the table in front of him. He'd only really just regained consciousness when a sharp knock came at the door, with the unmistakable urgency of a Peacekeeper patrol. The door opened (though whether it was Elias or the patrol letting themselves in was anyone's guess), and the heavy, brusque steps of boots on the floor made a beeline down the hallway for the main area.

One of the Peacekeepers (who Brody could see through the amber helmet visor was a woman in her early or mid thirties) approached him first, shouldering her rifle and kneeling next to him on the floor. She looked into his eyes and checked him over for injuries as her partner (a young man who looked barely old enough to be a Peacekeeper at all) stood behind her; Brody didn't move, his limbs feeling leaden and heavy, and wanting nothing more than to be in his own bed and sleep for days.

"This is Lima Patrol to dispatch. We found Sergeant O'Rourke." She radioed in, "Seems shaken up but unharmed. Heading back to you."

The young man helped Brody sit up, then stand, draping his arm over his shoulders and leading him slowly back towards the door; the woman quickly joined them to support Brody under his other arm, and she was just short enough that Brody managed to look at Elias over her head as they helped him out of the house.

ffffff - Brody O'Rourke
8761ac - Elias Storge
ffd600 - NPCs

[Ganymede]

Brody had just began to stir when there was a knock at the door. Unsure of who could possibly be knocking at this hour, Elias made headway to the front only for the door to open itself to two Peacekeepers. The first of the two sized him up quickly and passed him into the house. The second, a man Elias’ own age, stopped in front of him eyed him just to show he wasn’t afraid of the homeowner. Elias couldn’t help but push his shoulders back and straighten his back.

He could hear the other Peacekeeper make a call from the other room and her partner pushed past the tailor, his shoulder deliberately shoved Elias. With strong curiosity he watched them look over Brody and hoist him up. It took him a moment to clear his head and ask where they were taking him. Without even a glance the three Peacekeepers were gone from his house. Elias was left there, chicken for two and a front door that wouldn’t close properly.

Three days had passed and Elias had no idea what happened to Brody. There was an expectation of polite thanks. A call, a card. Anything that would tell him the Peacekeeper was in sound mind and doing better. Perhaps Brody wasn’t raised in a family were thankfulness was an important trait. No matter, it did not offend Elias. He was worried about the broken and confused man that slept on his couch. Certainly the doctors the Peacekeepers employed were top notch, but a kind soul will always quiver when terrible circumstances meet good people.

He definitely broke about seven rules, but Brody was a client of Elias’. He’s worked on different suits and outfits for the man for the past few years and was always a pleasure to work with. The tailor gave up most of his lunch at work to jump through hoops and make a few promises to get proper access to client files. Everything they had on Brody O’Rourke was right there: his measurements, his colors, past designs (failures and final products). Elias wondered for a moment if he was doing the right thing. At what point does this become stalking?

Hesitantly, he pulled out the information sheet that held all of Brody’s personal information. His orders, how he pays, his ID number from the Peacekeepers. It was all a lot of useless information to someone who just cuts cloth and pulls thread. Thankfully, his address was written out. Dear, his handwriting was atrocious. Elias pulled out his business card and copied the address on the back. He’ll have to make sure he didn’t accidently hand this card to anyone.

That night Elias wasted no time meandering through town. He went straight home and whipped up a casserole in his largest pan and spent the time it took baking in the oven to find anything else he could wrap up. With the card in his hand and a basket of food, Elias started the trail to grandma Brody’s house. It wasn’t too far, he lived in a complex they put all the other fancy ranking Peacekeepers. It was quite the place, the barracks much more sleek and intimidating than Elias’ own townhouse. He asked a few other guards for the correct direction towards the address on the card, they suspected him as a strange man carrying a basket like a weirdo. He played it off and thanked them for their time.

Approaching the door, Elias wiped his brow on his sleeve and tried to stop the churning in his stomach. Reaching up to knock was one of the most nerve-racking things he’s ever done. He paused with his knuckles on the door, considering if he should just back out now. Taking the moment to breathe and straighten his clothes, Elias steeled himself and rapped the door.

[Artemis]

It had taken a checkup by medical and a debrief by the patrol that had found him (one First Sergeant Hannity and Private Cheung) before Brody fully came to understand what had happened; a Peacekeeper patrol cruiser was having engine problems and had backfired, triggering a rather severe flashback from which Brody had fled nearly a mile before (quite literally) running into Elias Storge.

It was a relief to know Elias was exactly who he claimed to be (Brody did, in fact, remember his name and his profession once he was in a better frame of mind), but it was vastly overshadowed by the shame of being seen in such a state; broken, frightened, and practically feral. Not that Elias was a very threatening-looking or -acting man, but Brody had watched enough Hunger Games to be surprised by who had the ability to be vicious and deadly.

'Right. Your tailor is so vicious and deadly.'

Common courtesy dictated he should at least apologize to Elias for running into him and thank the man for taking care of him while he wasn't in control of his mental facilities. For days he wrestled with the idea, pondering how he might try and convey his apologies ("sorry I nearly tackled you when I was having a flashback" sounded all wrong), but every time he even considered how to even broach that topic, Brody's mortification overrode all of his higher brain functions.

So he did nothing.

Brody was even considering changing tailors, more than a little uncomfortable by the prospect of having to face Elias again knowing that he had seen Brody at his worst (it was no fault of Elias's own, and Brody knew it was a pretty childish thing of him to do), when the knock came at the and he looked through the peephole to find the man in question standing right there. Carrying a basket and looking terribly worried.

Worried about what? About him? About being here? Had he come of his own accord or was he somehow being strong-armed into this?

'Fuck. Shit. God dammit.'

It took a moment of collecting himself (and a shirt, he'd just gotten out of his uniform and had been lazing around in a pair of sweat pants) before Brody dared to crack the door. He wasn't rightly sure what Elias was doing here, but considering he'd had ample time to take advantage of Brody's vulnerability in some form or another and had instead taken care of him... Brody was hard-pressed to imagine any ulterior motives he might be hiding.

To say nothing of the fact that, outside of the distorted pinhole view through the door, he looked equally as nervous as Brody felt.

Brody glanced at him through the crack in the door, but couldn't bring himself to hold Elias's gaze. It was nervous, yes, but so open and full of concern.

"What're you doing here?"

His tone was soft, not accusing but more than a little wary; Elias lacked the body language and the expression he would have expected from someone who was angry or judgmental, but it didn't make him any less averse to the possibility of being called out for his behavior.

There was only so much shame he could process, and Brody knew he had no leg to stand on if Elias wanted to be mad at him; he had every right.

"... the patrol that found me. They didn't rough you up too much, did they?"

ffffff - Brody O'Rourke
8761ac - Elias Storge
ffd600 - NPCs

[Ganymede]

Elias wasn’t completely sure if he heard anything on the other side of the door. If he did it was certainly swearing. He hoped he wasn’t a nuisance to Brody. Nothing would be worse than for the Peacekeeper to open the door and cuss him out for just trying to be a good person. Had he crossed some unspoken boundary? It was entirely possible that coming around to his house broke many regulations that he was aware of. There’s also the chance that his arrival could be misconstrued into something else. Did he perhaps think Elias was coming as a suitor after caring for him? All puns aside his decisions finally were placed into a different light and Elias finally understood how Brody might be seeing it.

Just as he was turning to make a break for it he unmistakably heard Brody’s voice coming from the door. It felt like a cold bucket of water was dumped straight down his spine. Elias turned on his heel trying as hard as possibly from keeping his cheeks and ears from turning red in embarrassment as he gave the toothiest smile he could muster.

“Good evening! I wanted to see how you are holding up!” Elias definitely was overly pushing his friendly side but deep down he was panicking and didn’t want the Peacekeeper to pick up on it. He took a quick breath to calm down and finally met Brody’s eyes, his earnestly naturally rose up just then.

Even if he wasn’t good at reading faces he could tell the cocktail of emotions Brody was feeling was nothing compared to his own. Mostly he just looked scared, afraid of what was going to happen between the two. It was late, not unreasonably so for a surprise visit, but it probably was perfectly framing this as a rough-em-up kind of visit.

He sighed through his nose and a truly friendly smile formed. “They broke my door frame but two days later the Private, ah, Cheung came by and paid for the repairs. He was kind enough to remember me from his first fitting. Nice man.” He felt like he was rambling. Elias mentally told himself to focus on the task at hand. This wasn’t a social visit. Well, it was but he was here first and foremost as someone who cared. Peacekeeper Brody has undoubtedly undergone a lot of stress and needlessly keeping him up with chatter wasn’t helpful.

Elias unhooked the basket from his elbow and held it out for Brody to see. He pulled back part of the fabric cover to reveal the tightly packed food, still steaming from the oven. “I had hoped to make sure you are being taken care of. I also had a lot of extra food so I figured I would offer some proper comfort food. ‘Nourishment is the best bandage’ as my mother always says.” He kept rambling on, he knew he was only doing it because of his nerves. But still, being stared at through a crack in the door was doing nothing to calm him. Elias suddenly remembered he was still clutching his business card with Brody’s address on it and tried to crumple it without the Peacekeeper noticing. He’ll have to destroy the evidence quickly and slyly (two things Elias was never good at when he wanted to be).

[Artemis]

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[presto] [/presto]

Brody O'Rourke you shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am TITANIUM Elias turned around as Brody opened the door, looking halfway like a deer in headlights and the metaphorical child caught with their hand in the cookie jar; the smile that crossed his face was almost too friendly, though the red in his ears that was creeping slowly down to his face gave him away. “Good evening! I wanted to see how you are holding up!” Did he know how red his face was now? There was a pause, and though it wasn't very long it felt like an eternity as Brody, for once, fumbled for something to say; he'd already ruled out seeking Elias himself to apologize, the last thing in the world he had expected was for the man to come to him. The tailor sighed, though, some of the tension evaporating from his posture as he went on. “They broke my door frame but two days later the Private, ah, Cheung came by and paid for the repairs. He was kind enough to remember me from his first fitting. Nice man.” Brody fidgeted, still unsure what Elias was doing there. Perhaps the other man picked up on his uncertainty, or maybe he realized that he was talking in circles; he took the basket off his arm, which Brody only just now realized he had, tugging back the fabric cover to reveal it was packed with home cooking. “I had hoped to make sure you are being taken care of. I also had a lot of extra food so I figured I would offer some proper comfort food. ‘Nourishment is the best bandage’ as my mother always says.” Somehow, that statement made him far more uncomfortable than this impromptu visit; it was rather hard not to feel like a colossal asshole when Brody hadn't been so much as able to face the man long enough to give him a much-deserved apology, while Elias had apparently gone through the trouble of locating him to see how he was and come bearing gifts while he was at it. Which begged the question why anyone that nice would be wasting their time on a head case like him. If it was pity, Brody would most certainly shut the door in his face. "... that's very nice of you." He replied quietly, wincing inwardly at the uncertainty in his own voice. He opened the door a little wider, glancing each way down the hall; technically, visiting hours were almost over, but Brody had always been more of an 'ask for forgiveness instead of permission' kind of man. He looked back into his barracks room; now that he lacked a roommate, there was no one to make this situation any more awkward than it had to be. "Do you want to come in...?" Every fiber of his being screamed at him for asking; in the back of his head, though, Brody could practically feel his father's disapproval if he hadn't invited Elias inside after all the trouble he clearly went through. Brody's barracks was kept to a Spartan level of cleanliness and organization, though it wasn't without personality; his boots were shined and stood dutifully next to the door below the hook holding his belt and helmet, and the walls were sparsely decorated with souvenirs of his travels and framed photos. The certificate of his promotion to sergeant, however, was conspicuously (and intentionally) absent. ffffff - Brody O'Rourke 8761ac - Elias Storge