Rating out of Ten
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#1
I thought that love was in the drugs
But the more I took, the more it took away
Adam had never been one for romance, but he was absolutely comfortable with PDA. In the guild he sat leaning casually back on a chair, his arm flung around Pet and his hand stroking up and down his shoulder with the faintest touch of his finger tips. Every so often he pressed a kiss to Pet's temple and whispered a joke or some observation in his ear, looking over the people wandering around.

He was sure eventually it would get horrible, but for the moment he found he was quite relaxed. There was a warm fire, a cute boy in his arm and the general hubbub of people about him. Seeing Amalia in the crowd he nodded with his chin, tilting it up, saying hello and then smiled and waved for her to come over.

Adam wasn't sure if Pet and Amalia knew each other, but he figured it'd be nice for them all to hang out. Maybe her big man could come too. "Hey, Ama, this is Pet. Uh, Peter."
And I could never get enough
ADAM
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#2


















It was incredibly clear, to anyone who might glance his way, that Peter was on edge. His whole body was taught, like an overwound spring, like he might snap up and apart at any moment. And he might. This was his first experience with Longnight, and he was in a new place, surrounded largely by strangers.

Really, the only thing bringing him any kind of relief was Adam. The arm slung around him was slowly wearing on his alertness, Pets body arching to lean against his partner, and the kisses and whispered words pressed against his head brought the ghosts of smiles to his face, cracking his quietly worried mask. He was actually relaxing, his eyes getting heavy and his body more leaning against Adam than not when the moment had to be ruined.

Adam saw someone, Pet didn’t know who, in the crowd, forcing him to blink and straighten, trying to make a good impression. The woman was a friend though, if Adams about meant anything. He didn’t have to worry too much, he tried to tell himself, before nodding along with his introduction. ”Peter.” He confirmed, then looked up.

Peter
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#3
Amalia
It is still early, but already Amalia can feel herself growing tense and anxious with the enclosed space. Oh, she knows most of the people within, but how many does she truly know? How many is she close with, friends with, does she trust not to loathe her by the time the sun returns, seven long and worried nights full of mistakes later?

Not as many as she might like, but more than in the past. And on that list, not far from the top, is a tousled looking drug addict who has somehow won his way into her heart.

The smile that crosses Amalia's face as Adam calls her over is bright and mischievous, sharp dark eyes glancing over at the slender man, recognition coming even before Adam says his name. "So you're who this one keeps talking about," Amalia says, not unkindly, settling down onto the ground in front of the roaring fire. "Amalia. Tell me, Peter- how'd you manage to get tangled up in this one's mess?"
reach for the stars: but child, first recognize
the constellations of light you already carry
inside you
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#4
after fury
what do you do
Restless, irritated, and unsettled, he spent a majority of his time thus far making armor, pacing, and brooding. Most of it was counterproductive, useless, and inept; which designated his feelings for LongNight with precision. Last year he’d been able to at least drink until some calamity burst through the seams. This season involved militia, protection, and so many alterations that he couldn’t quite fathom into the current span of time – meandering near corners and corridors for now, striving to either stay out of the way or furrow his brows into more desolate portions. Only curiosity invoked him to raise his head at all from his work, placing weapons near the hearth, claiming integral locations for blades and swords, as he watched Amalia gather around two other individuals. One he’d never noted or recognized, and the other being Adam, briefly identified as the man he’d dragged out of the Fae’s pit.

Nosey and slightly bored, he rose from where he was sitting and meandered over, standing like a stalwart monolith beside Amalia, tilting his head to listen, poking at the fire, adding some additional logs to the flames, as if he were tending them instead of being inquisitive. He said nothing, offering an arched brow to Amalia, silent form remaining close at hand.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#5
I thought that love was in the drugs
But the more I took, the more it took away
When Amalia approached she teased him, but the tone in her voice was so familiar Adam couldn't help but like it. He stuck his tongue out anyway though, making sure she knew exactly what he thought of the questions. "Maybe it's me caught up in Pet's mess." As if to illustrate this, he ruffled Pet's hair.

As Deimos walked up, he smirked; oh, now they could tease each other fairly. He pretended to take a long time to take his eyes up the man, starting at his feet and dramatically tilting his head to take him all in. "Oh hey, big guy." A million sentences far too inappropriate for the setting passed through his mind and Adam, more mature now than he had been a year ago, decided to not say them.

"You're Amalia's dude, right? I know we prolly met before, but I think I might've just gotten out of a big hole where I nearly starved to death, so it...might notta been the best introduction. I'm Adam, your girlfriends drug dealer." And with a bright grin, he held out a hand to shake.
And I could never get enough
ADAM
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#6


















Peter blinks up at Amalia silently, more surprised than anything else by her casual friendliness, as if they were more than barely acquainted. Then, as the words actually sink in, he gets to be surprised all over again, his head twisting to look at Adam. ”You...” then he shakes his head, turns back to Amalia, “...he... talks about me?”

As for the second bit, about messes, Peter opens his mouth to protest, and is interrupted by the hand in his hair. It would be harder to argue with Adams rebuttal, but he goes to open his mouth again and offer a compromise. They come from a messy place. It’s only natural they’re drawn together. An absolute mountain of a man comes over behind Amalia though, one who Adam seems to recognize, so Pet keeps quiet and instead looks up at the new stranger curiously.

Adams words slowly drew Pets gaze, the words echoing a moment in his head before he glanced at Amalia and Deimos both, waiting for this to turn into a mess. Maybe Amalia had been right, though it wasn’t necessarily something Pet could complain about. Usually. A mess in auch right quarters, and for such an extended period, might be bad in this case.

Peter
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#7
Amalia
It's fascinating to see Adam so outwardly affectionate, though perhaps not such a great surprise. The man has never been shy with his caresses, but Amalia suspects she can see more behind it, that there's a little less playfulness and a little more sincerity. Maybe she's projecting, but she just can't help remember the way he grew a little quiet, a little flustered, a little soft. So she smiles brightly back at Peter, shrugging quietly, wanting to give her friend a hard time. "Oh, yeah- well, kind of. I've never known him to be at a loss for words, except when he talks about you."

But then Deimos arrives behind her, and Adam wastes exactly no time in striking right back. She's looking up at her lover with a warm, pleased smile when the thief makes his introduction, and immediately the baker's cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson as she turns a furious, coal-bright glare back upon her friend. "Adam!" Amalia exclaims, indignant, struggling to keep her voice soft as she rises onto her knees. "One time! Reaching out with a fist far stronger than her slight frame would suggest, she attempts to punch him mostly playfully on his thigh, utterly mortified and thoroughly unable to look back and meet Deimos' gaze.
reach for the stars: but child, first recognize
the constellations of light you already carry
inside you
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#8
after fury
what do you do
Deimos’ first impression of Adam hadn’t really been much of anything – another individual caught in the web of Fae antics, pulled up from the pit and pendulums, and then set upon his way. There hadn’t been any other interactions since, though he knew and understood the man was a favorite of Amalia’s. Why he couldn’t quite understand, not quite contemplating the appeal as he was called big guy, Amalia’s dude, and then –

Drug dealer.

Oh, the Sword shook Adam’s hand, but with a definite force and vitriol behind the notion, pressing far more strength than necessary into the motion, not quite striving to hear any crack or snap of bones (but the sentiment was there, reeling in the back of his mind). His jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, every bit the picture of a warrior waiting to drive his blade into Adam’s torso or simply ponder another means of destruction.

Because there were other measures coiled and contorted into the General’s cranium, and many of them ached, made him flinch, inwardly drawn to other memories and moments he couldn’t quite fathom or understand. Drugs? he inquired towards Amalia, the Attuned bond segmenting, carefully neutral even while he wasn’t. There were a thousand different directions he could echo and reverberate along, and he was lost in the sea of their fathoms and depths. At first, it was cool and calm, contemplating the measures of why she’d pursue some other substance, if it was any variable from their alcohol celebrations or inebriations when no one died in their latest quests. But then it meandered into realms of the unknown, if something else was going on that he was unware of, problems or vexations or other frustrations sticking to her that she simply didn’t tell him. And why hadn’t she? Are you all right? pulsed back to her, a phrase he’d meant to ask before, and she’d hid from it.

He permitted the sting to bite into his skin, sitting there while he pondered over what to even say. His brow arched for a moment, glancing sidelong at Peter, who apparently deigned to involve himself with Adam too. All of this was likely meant to be amusing, and he wasn’t finding the humor in it.

“I preferred the pit introduction,” his tone was flat, unimpressed. At least near the gaping hole he could’ve pushed him back in and left him to sit there for a bit longer. Here, there was really only tossing him outside, for the monsters to feast upon. Amalia and this Peter fellow probably wouldn’t allow it. “Deimos,” he extended, rendering the awkward, ridiculous introductions complete.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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MP: 0
#9
I thought that love was in the drugs
But the more I took, the more it took away
Adam ignored Amalia and Peter's conversation, unable to acknowledge it lest he die from pure embarrassment. Sure, Pet was his boyfriend, but that didn't mean he liked him (Well yes, it did. But it didn't mean people had to talk about it).

Luckily, Amalia was about to provide him with a perfect distraction. He was about to let the moment pass then dismiss it, pretend it was entirely a joke and not a part-truth, then Amalia exclaimed 'one time!', effectively admitting that she had indeed taken drugs from him. Adam's face split into a delighted, shocked smile, his eyebrows high and his mouth hanging open in a laughing grin.

Even with Deimos' hand nearly crushing his own, he couldn't stop laughing, even more so after the not-so-subtle dig from the man. "Ha! Good one." He took his hand back and placed his arm back around Pet, gesturing loosely for Deimos to sit. "C'mon though, you've gotta have some vices, right? Maybe not drugs, but we've all got something. Like alcohol, though I guess that could be drugs, or some kinda weird sex thing."

Whatever it was, he suspected he probably wasn't going to hear it from Deimos. "So how are you two taking to this weird ass time? It's your first one too, isn't it, Pet?" He asked, looking to his side.
And I could never get enough
ADAM
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#10


















There was no mistaking the gentle smile that spread across Peter's face at Amalia's words, the dusting of a blush over his cheeks. "Really?" He asked, though it wasn't really a question. Peter believed her. Why wouldn't he? Still, he could feel Adam's stiffness, his pointed lack of interest in their words, and just shuffled closer to him, content with just the feeling of being hip to hip, for now.

The warm contentment was doomed to fizzle out though, snuffed y Adam's own hand, his insistence on adding tension to an already tense night. Blue eyes watched the handshake, followed Deimos' hand back to keep an eye on the imposing mans face. Like he'd be able to do anything against him. The better option might be to reach over and cover Adam's mouth though, his boyfriends tongue a shovel that he insisted on using, for whatever ends.

It took him a moment to realize Adam was talking to him, Pet looking over with a start. "It's my... oh! Yes, I um... came here, I guess, uh, just after last year. Er, after this... this time last year." He nodded, it had been a strange, confusing time, made easier by the people he met. By Adam. "We've almost uh... almost known each other for a year then." It felt innocent enough to say, maybe enough to tug the conversation away from wherever it was heading.

Peter
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#11
Amalia
Had she leopard ears they would flatten in unhappiness at Deimos' neutral question, guessing that the flatness of his tone hides a rough edge. I'm fine, she answers silently, though the fight with Jigano still blisters in her mind. I... I had a hard day, and Adam helped me through it. I'll tell you later. He's a good person, I promise.

Well, this is going wonderfully. If looks could kill then Adam would be nothing more than a scorch mark on the floor by now. As it is Amalia must content herself with a furious, disbelieving glare as her friend continues to attempt to dig himself a deeper hole than the one Deimos pulled him out of, one the baker is seriously contemplating leaving him in this time.

His question doesn't earn an answer, and with one last pointed glare at Adam Amalia turns to Peter, her expression softening somewhat for the other man who deserves no part in this unfolding disaster. "How have you been settling in since then?" she asks, also desperate to steer this conversation into safer waters. "There are so many luxere this year- hopefully the Spark Bird will come, too. Did you see it, last year?"
reach for the stars: but child, first recognize
the constellations of light you already carry
inside you
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#12
after fury
what do you do
Deimos had plenty of vices. They eclipsed his virtues swiftly, quickly, shards of darkness puncturing their way through anything of value. He was stubborn and obstinate, tenacious and seditious, irreverent and barbaric, at times avaricious, greedy, coveting, coveting, coveting from pieces and portions of days where he’d lost everything, and that was merely surface level. Except he wasn’t about to spill any of his weaknesses, vulnerabilities, or ineffectual measures here and now. Though Adam might soon find his penchant for murder, hatred, abhorrence, and any other means and measures when confronted with an irritating force. The Reaper would’ve proffered an intimidating stature, or merely left; unimpressed and irritated, exasperated until he simply couldn’t care enough. The Sword, however, was mainly vexed and nettled on Amalia’s behalf.

He ignored the thief’s inquiry, not even bothering to glance his way again, eyes turning towards the fire, or arching his brow at Peter again (a question in his gaze, even if he didn’t give it a voice). He settled at the proffered spot, descending towards the hearth, fighting the notion to raise hackles or bristle. The beast listened to Amalia’s brief explanation, jaw clenched, form hardened in steel and resolve, forged with iron and uncertain of just what was going on. Adam helped her through a hard day with…drugs. Weren’t there better ways, more effective means? Or was he the type to simply seek into indulgences, impulses, and not bother with the consequences, the fallout, something prickling into the current stature? Deimos had little more to contribute towards the silent conversation than the actual one between fire and brimstone – the precarious fault lines dragged over the sanction. He nodded towards her and left it at that – another later venture they’d have to trace over, another thing he didn’t know or understand.

“We are better prepared this year,” was really all he could contribute. Prepared didn’t mean safe. Prepared didn’t mean worthy. Prepared didn’t mean none of them would die. Just that they had some notion of expectations, of the rush, the crush, of the void outside the doors and walls.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#13
I thought that love was in the drugs
But the more I took, the more it took away
Adam was apparently entirely oblivious to the bombs he was dropping (though he did see Amalia's glare, which he smiled wide in response to), happily smiling and convinced he was being charming and irresistible to each of his friends around him. At least if he was being 'funny' they didn't have to focus on him talking about Pet - in response to the 'really?' he looked off, a hand over his mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Shit, doesn't feel like a year, does it?" He couldn't believe a year had passed since he'd arrived, never mind since he'd met Pet. It felt both like he'd been there forever and like he'd always had the quieter man by his side. Memories of his old life, his horse and his old bed and the trappings of the kingdom...they felt imaginary, now.

Amalia had some questions about Longnight and Deimos only stoically stated they were prepared. Adam waited for Pet to answer and said himself: "I don't really get how the weird deer things help. Why don't the monsters just fuck 'em up? At least the birds made outta fire."
And I could never get enough
ADAM
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#14


















Peter shook his head in response to Adams words, almost disbelieving the time passed himself. It seemed shorter than he was used to, and so much had happened. ”I... I think it’s been okay? I’ve been okay. Um... weird though.” He nodded, more at himself than to Amalia. ”I think...” He paused, biting his lip and trying to think of how to word what he wanted to say, the mistakes he’d made, that maybe weren’t really mistakes. The loss of his name, but the gaining of a family, who he’d only really found in Loren. It was a lot.

Thankfully, Amalia gave him an out, a lifeline to move on to something else. ”I didn’t last year. I um... I heard about it, but it was... or, it left before I came. Adam saw it.” Peter reached out to pat at his partners chest, as if they’d have been able to forget about him while he was talking. Then, he glanced up towards Deimos, clearly hesitant to speak directly to him. ”We’re things um... not as good before? Last year?”

Adams question drew his attention back, at least while Adam was speaking, but he turned to Amalia, wondering what the answer was as well. Pet had an idea, one that felt stupid and childish but that still persisted, that the luxere were good, and so couldn’t be harmed by whatever monsters roamed about.

Peter
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.


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