The First Age

The showers brought some things into perspective.  The horde raged in his body.  Their instinct pushing at every facet of his being.  He fought against them.  He knew he had no out -- not tonight.  The fight had rolled him hard.  Ori was not a toy or a game, she was a friend.  And his boss.

Doubt crept in.  But Ori was a fickle beast, if she was there.  He didn't expect her to be but he didn't want to keep her waiting either.  They had made arrangements for the night.  He still couldn't believe that he'd done what he'd done or who with it went against his rules.  He didn't have many, but he had a few.

Nox slipped back into the chain mail shirt and leather pants with a quick cleaning with the power.  They'd be at least clean if not perfect.  The make up from before was gone, though he did apply some eyeliner, that made up for the lack of the rest after the shower.  Ori could live with his lack of show now.  She might say something -- she might not.

The horde roared in his ears with each heart beat.  It wasn't done with him.  A girl usually waited for him.  It had expectations.  Ori wasn't waiting around for him, but he did find her at the bar sipping at a drink in her typical state.  A crocket smile slipped on his lips as he leaned against the bar next to her. "I half expected you to be gone."

He leaned close. "Some place safe?  You thought about it?"

Oriena rolled her eyes and said nothing.  She wasn't going to play his games.  He chuckled and rolled his eyes in return. "Fine then."  He took Oriena softly by the elbow.  He couldn't take her to Kallisti and he wasn't about to take her a safe place if she wasn't going to play ball either.  But there were places he could go.  He used to stay in them regularly, it was where he had hooked up with Elyse the first time.  And there was a kitchen.  His stomach rumbled.

There was a town car waiting outside.  Normally he'd walk, but Ori wasn't a walker, not in her state, nor in heels -- that wasn't fair. 

Nox opened the door for Oriena and helped her inside. He slid in next to her, his hand on her thigh while he made a few texts so he could have food waiting when they got where they were going.  He tucked the wallet into the safe pocket he had in the mail shirt.  And put the rest of his attention on her.  It wasn't romance he offered.  It wasn't even because he felt sorry for himself.  He let the horde have what they wanted and whatever Ori would let him take in the backseat of a car.  His attention was only on her, his mind only on pleasing and taking.  Things would be different once they got where they were going.

---

She ignored Nox outright when he leaned on the bar next to her. Almaz provided distraction, but it was all surface amusement. Between the drugs and the alcohol she skirted the edges of oblivion, and woe betide any other fool who might have intruded upon her in such a mood. Despite their earlier teasing she hadn’t expected him to actually seek her out after his fight. Nox could burn his entire world to ash on the turn of a spontaneous moment, but given time to think something through she considered him far too chivalrous to fuck himself over on purpose. Apparently she was wrong. 
 
Ori scoffed at the idea of a “safe” place and didn’t even bother to look at him, let alone answer the question. But the guidance of a touch on her arm led her nonetheless without retaliation. Her eyes flashed chaos. It might have meant a million different things. 
 
The car was unexpected, and unnecessary, though she didn’t complain, only laughed darkly as he actually opened the door for her. She didn’t ask where they were going, if anywhere. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d fucked someone in a backseat. More, she was curious how far he’d actually take it. Nox was soft, for all the darkness nibbling his edges, and if she teased him into the deeper shadows of his nature it was in no real anticipation that he'd actually follow. When his attention turned to her, she did not stop him. If she was surprised it was quickly drowned in something heated. Ori had waited for him to make the move, but once he did she was voracious in turn. It tasted like forbidden fruit and tomorrow's regret.

---

His hands wandered the horde was hungry for flesh, it took more effort than usual to keep his mouth from tender bits that could cause permanent damage.  Fingers dug into flesh.  He lost track of who was who.

The car stopped and the driver cleared his throat. 

Nox paid him as he slipped out the car.  The motel was one of those rent by the week places, and he'd been renting a room there for weeks now.  Sleeping during the daylight hours when he couldn't catch a wink at Kallisti.  He'd fallen back to old habits without a tether keeping him in one place.

There was a bag waiting on the door knob.  It could have walked off except everyone sorta knew not to mess with him here.  There were a few thugs who liked to make trouble.  Since setting up security around Kallisti he'd picked a few enemies and made a few friends.

The horde smelled the steak in the styrafoam package and Nox's stomach rumbled.

Nox pulled his key from his pocket and slide it into the latch and pushed the door open. 

It was probably the cleanest room in the joint.  He'd spent several hours using the power cleaning it.  It had been gross.  Now it at least was presentable.  Didn't look like anyone stayed here any more than his room at Kallisti.  And he didn't even keep anything here but a single change of clothes just in case.

The queen size bed was neatly made, the cleaning lady had been in. 

He held up his hand to the car driver to wait as he turned to look at Oriena. "You look amazing.  And you feel amazing.  But I can't. I want to but I can't.  The car can take you home.  Or you can come in and eat."

The plug to the tv hung over the dresser it was perched on.  Nox pulled the table away from the wall and offered Ori the comfortable chair. "I need to feed 2 out of 3 hungers.  One was fed in the ring.  If I feed the second with you I break about a thousand of my rules.  You're fried.  And I'm me.  You can do better."

[[with Oriena]]

She could unhook his inhibitions like she had with Ryker. Hell she didn’t think Nox would even be capable of saying no if the temptation got too difficult to deny, even without the power’s aid. But she’d tried that game once, and ultimately it held no further appeal. She preferred the unpredictability of choice. “I don’t need your pity. Or your protection.” She shouldered past him into the shithole motel room. He was wrong about her being fried. This was comfortably numb, the voices in the back of her head more like distant static. Chances were Nox didn’t keep alcohol or anything else remotely fun in this place. She regretted not taking a bottle from Almaz. Or passing out on the bar before he’d ever finished the fight.

She ignored the compliment. She didn’t give a fuck what Nox thought of her, and she already knew she was hardly his type. Rejection powdered up in sugary sweetness was still rejection, and Ori had already tasted that once tonight. Her gaze raked him coldly in response. She didn’t take the chair offered, and for now hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter instead. You’re not worth the risk, was all she heard in his dismissal, and it pounded in her head like a cacophony.

[This is how it ends. This is how it ALWAYS ends].

“I don’t give a fuck about your rules. Or anyone else's for that matter.”

[No one ever cares, Lady of Sorrow]

[Only us. Let us in]

“Don’t let me stop you from sating that hunger,” she said. It wasn’t said kindly.

Nox hasn't expected Oriena to come inside. Much less take up residence on the counter. Nox didn't drink but the fridge catered to others who stayed here. He pulled out several bottles and set them down next to Oriana along with a Styrofoam container with steak and whatever the plate came with and he sat down at the table to eat himself. He knew Oriena felt the sting of rejection. He would too. It hurt, and he hated doing it but he'd hate himself more if he went through with it.

"I know you don't care. But you are my friend, rules or no rules." It was the last thing he said before sitting down and eating himself. Most of what was in his plate was meat, in a rare capacity and very little vegetables, though he still ate them. He hated feeling like he only fed the hunger of the horde. He hated the feeling it left. It was hard to not eat healthier, but it was easier to feed the horde than not. Meant a bit more careful planning and workouts.

Between bites Nox looked over at Oriena. "Whatever she wants. I'll help you get it if I can. Or fight it, whatever you want." He returned to his food. If she wanted to talk she could. If she wanted to just sit in silence that was fine as well. It didn't matter. It was late. He texted Raffe so that Kallisti was locked up right.

Getting late. I'll find a place to crash. Go ahead and lock up.

Oriena watched him with the unguarded gaze of a predator, and did not move from her perch. Shadows flitted across her expression. She’d given Nox the opportunity to have fun with her, no strings, and his breach of those self-proclaimed “rules” while they were still in the car did little to endear him to her changeable mood. The indifference of it bothered her, so much so she could feel it rising hot in her blood as she drew that dividing line in her mind.

“Is that what you think?” She laughed a little, uncapped one of the proffered bottles, and took a draw without looking to see what it was. Meanwhile he ate with the mechanical studiousness of need. His words by now fluttered past her unheeded. Nox would always strive to do the right thing, of that she could be assured. He threw promises around like loose change. But the truth was he couldn’t help her. She was way fucking beyond it.

She slipped down from the counter, leaned over where he sat so her breath was hot in his ear and her arms wrapped a languid mockery of intimacy. “Deny what you are and you’ll just keep breaking everything you touch. I think you know that. A different fuck every night? Girls always, of course, so you don’t catch feelings. How long before it destroys you, that soulless life?” She paused only long enough to let the bite of the truth sink in before she added, low and malicious: “He won’t ever accept you. No matter how long you wait for him.”

Her arms around him felt like she was taunting him. He kept eating while her words stung. She wasn't wrong. She never was. She was always right about who he was. "I know I'm a monster, Ori. Right now, fucking is better then killing. Girls because it's easier. Years of practice, and you aren't wrong I won't catch any feelings."

Nox chewed several more bites before he continued on. "I told you when I started this I'd be anything you want. But you don't want me or anything from me. You want me to want you. To choose you, right?" Nox sighed. "May not feel like it with the sting of rejection in your face, but I did choose you. I chose not to fuck up what we have. I'll be your punching bag. I'll take whatever you wanna throw at me in anger, in rejection, in whatever is going through your head."

She kept going on adding Raffe to the mix for extra benefit. "I'm not waiting. He ended it. Am I still in love? Yes. But that's because of who he is, not me." Nox tapped her arms and gave her a hug sorta. "Keep dishing out the harsh truths Oriena. Hit me, fight me. Whatever you need."

He was reasonable, and the passiveness of it grated. Ori rolled her eyes.

“And I told you I didn’t do half measures,” she said. When he reached to placate her she moved away from the touch. That he thought he knew what she wanted did not sit well, but expectation of her anger or frustration instead cooled her flat. She looked down at him. He’d called her a friend, and he was wrong about that. By the inscrutability of her expression, she was not about to share anything of herself. Nox picked the wrong time to poke at her vulnerabilities.

“If I wanted a punching bag I’d fight ringside at Almaz. And if I wanted you to cater to my every whim, I’d make you.” She pressed a finger to his skull, to illustrate what she meant, but didn’t reach for the power to do it. He’d mentioned her scars before, but she’d never told him what had happened. There was plenty of proof online, but the circle of fire had been so violent most were just shaky videos of flame and smoke. If anyone had caught the land of Ryker's first punch, Ori had never gone looking for it.

“I’ve no interest in being the architect to this pity party, or whatever punishment it is you apparently think you deserve.” She swiped the bottle back up and headed for the door.

Nox rolled his eyes. She threw temper-tantrums as well as he did. Why did she insist on taking everything? On being stubborn.

Her finger against his head said more than what she did. He knew it well enough. Never had her use it, she never needed to. All she has ever had to do is ask him, and he'd be hers. Not in the way she wanted. He would never be in love with her. Never have more than a feeling that she was family -- a sister.
A fucking older sister who could beat the living shit out of him and never give a fuck in the world. He realized in that moment why he tried. Why he wanted it so bad. Why he'd tried to give her what she wanted. He'd do anything for family. Even if it meant giving himself up. But he couldn't risk losing family.
Not even Oriena.

She claimed it was a pity party. And before the first few bites it might have been. This place wasn't about feeling sorry for himself. It was a place to take care of himself. A place to get some restful sleep -- sleep that was not guarded by his thoughts of keeping Raffe from his nightmares. Here he could dream however he needed. Sleep in peace. Live without worry of harming Raffe. Or the girls. It wasn't pity. He had brought her someplace safe without intending too.

Nox flung his hand towards the door and a wisp of air slammed the door shut as Oriena pulled it open. He expected her ire. She was always pissed. Always hating on something. Just fucking once he wanted to see something else -- but that wasn't likely to happen today.

He stood up chewing the last forkful of rare meat left of the first steak. A second beckoned his name, but first there was an obstinate woman he had to remind who he was too. "I am not like your other friends, Oriena." His voice was cold and calm wrapped in the cooling aspect of the power. He didn't smile, didn't show any emotion. "I don't need you to compel me into doing whatever you want. You don't need to take it from me. I'll give you what you want, all you have to do is ask. But you can't do that. it's weak. And you are anything but weak, Oriena. One of the strongest fucking people I know. But I'm not weak. I'm not powerless. You might be stronger. But I'm better."

She couldn't see the weaves he wove. He tied off a box of air around them. He wanted a fight. Spirit wedges woven and held to slice her compulsion weave should she send them his way. It had been a while since he'd tango'd against the female power, but he and Aurora had practiced for hours learning the best way to do it, to understand, feel, anticipate. It was all about the eyes. And he had an advantage being able to know if she held the power or not -- that simple sensation the only indicator.

He had air ready to block whatever she might throw at him, and water to put out any fire should it spark. He wouldn't attack her. This wasn't a threat -- just a reminder. Nox chuckled to himself. "Do you remember the day we first met?" He licked his lips, it wasn't seductive or sexy but it drew upon a memory the violence that took place. The first time grasping the power without Aurora's hand in his. Fucking Freedom! The horde pulled at his memories.

The door slammed.

Her teeth grit, nostrils flared in irritation. After a moment she turned, leaned her back against it, and looked up at him through her lashes. He was emotionless despite the sudden use of force, and for a moment the dismissiveness of it sparked in her a torrential fury. The wells of rage ran deep and ancient, crippled a thousand times over with the venom of injustice served upon the creatures fate saw her bound to.

“I know that,” she said bluntly. It came out raw, angry. Ori abruptly straightened from the door and shoved him backwards. Followed with a step. Should he retaliate, it was unlikely she’d defend herself, and nor did she reach for the power. Still, she was blazing.

Nox smirked in return. “That's all you got?”

“You might be better, but I’m the one who’s not afraid to lose, sweetheart.” There was a bare-faced demon in the answer of her own smirk, quelled with a bite of her lip, but she didn’t choose to share how her sense of the ijiraq stirred the moment he used the power to snap the door – he knew what fire they played with. She remembered Nox’s fight with Gio, escalated on nothing more than whim, but he was hardly the same person as back then. Her gaze was a torrent. A dare she knew he would not meet. She wasn’t afraid of him, nor of the horde snarling in his head. He didn’t have the nerve to let go anyway. It was why she was leaving.

“I came here for you,” she said. Her voice was sultry, but sharp as a blade; not a seduction. The attraction was new, and it was a genuine fascination she didn’t hide, but Ori didn’t ever chase. She didn’t get hung up on rejection either, at least not of that sort. Truth was Nox’s heartbreak was too fucking pathetic to make the tease remotely satisfying for its own sake. She didn’t want a doormat to cater to her whim because she asked nicely. She didn’t want kindness and understanding, nor commiseration for the way the world fucked them over. And she certainly didn’t want to fucking talk. “I’m not someone you can hurt. I don’t fall in love. But I do know you. I am the safe fucking place. So fuck your chivalry, Nox. And fuck you.”

[with Nox]

Nox wasn't afraid to lose. He didn't want to die, but it wasn't fear that drove the want. He'd die. He thought about it a lot more than any one person should. Taking his own life was the easy way out. Losing it in a fight well that was a different story -- as long as he didn't do it without a fight. Giving up wasn't in his nature.

Maybe that was why he'd slammed the door shut, maybe it was why he pushed Ori's buttons to make her come back. He wanted a fight. Wanted to be hurt -- punished for all his wrong doings. Someone to just make him pay. Jay had started it. But the fight left Nox wanting his friend back, and not the punishment he felt he deserved.

"I came here for you."

The words resonated in his soul. Oriena didn't do anything for anyone other than herself. They cut like a knife. He'd said he wasn't like her other friends. Maybe he should listen to his own words. She wasn't like the others.

"I am the safe fucking place."

She said more in the past few seconds than most people had said to him well ever. There were a few, and in every case he'd disappointed them all. He couldn't disappoint Oriena. She would never love him. So he could never hurt her. She could take care of herself, but in all of that hardness there was a small grain of hope. This had all started with the way she grabbed his arm in the club. She understood him better than he did himself. There had been an offer, Nox didn't ask if it was still on the table -- Ori would scoff at the idea and worse case scenario she'd smack him down and walk out the door.

Risk versus reward. There was very little risk in what he was about to do. She wouldn't connect with him no matter how much he felt for her. There was a twinge of guilt, of loss and sadness in it. But he did it anyway. Nox closed the distance, did two unprecedented things since losing his left arm -- clasped the back of Oriena's neck with it and kissed her all in the same moment. He focused on gentle touch, not because he was trying to be gentle, but because he was trying not to crush the back of her skull accidentally. But the rest of him didn't care about injury -- to himself or her. The kiss was hard, passionate, wanton. He needed it like he needed air. He hadn't kissed her like that in the car. Hadn't kissed a girl like that since Elyse. And definitely never kissed any of his flings -- period. Oriena had been right there too, last thing he wanted was to catch feelings -- problem with Oriena was he already had feelings -- though not of love or romance. This wasn't his sister -- and she wasn't like any of his other friends.

Her eyes were storming so dark they were almost black. Ori didn’t shrug off the anger, and she was angry. Not at him really, though it wouldn’t protect him from bearing the brunt if she snapped before she got out the door. Her life had been spiralling since the Kremlin ball, but tonight was the first time she’d realised how truly fucked she was. Alone at the bar she’d spent a long time thinking about the insidious drip of blood from her nose. The chokehold of mortality was arresting, but mostly she’d thought about how her oath to the queen wasn’t one she couldn’t keep. It was one she wouldn’t keep. There was a reckless liberation in that understanding. She wasn’t lying about having nothing to lose. The Ascendancy had made a mistake letting her loose.

At that moment she wanted to hurt Nox; twist the knife he kept lodged in own his chest with malicious words, not give him the catharsis of remedial bruises. Tension swelled as the venom on her tongue died. The worst thing she could do to him was leave, but she wanted to see him realise it. Ori wasn’t primed to protect herself should the darkness in him surge towards a bloody and violent reaction; if she was goading it wasn’t because she was gunning for a fight, it was because she wanted a reaction that wasn’t wrapped up tight in control – or to crush him under the weight of his own miserable rules. So there was an actual second of surprise when he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her instead.

It was hungry and visceral, and an immediate match to gasoline.

Ori didn’t hold back. The desperation was aphrodisia, and she claimed it without a second thought. Not as breath or salvation offered to a dying man; Ori pulled him right down into the hellish depths with her, a furious frenzy of desire. She rammed him backwards into the table he’d vacated, well aware he was fresh from the ring but unmindful of any lingering injury. The hand in her hair could snap her neck with a flex, but it only fuelled her aggression. The chainlinks of his shirt were cold in her grasp as her touch travelled up his stomach, twisted it in her fist until it bit his skin. A thread of power warmed the metal, a tease of heat, and a demand.