Fallout

Artemis body has just about returned to normal; the black had faded from his skin. The claw retracted into normal looking human hands. His jawline had returned to normal, as had his teeth and eyes. For the most part, he looked like the usual, complete Artemis Dagger. Except for the blood, the unbelievably strong scent of blood. His demonic sense made it all the more intense, like a thick cologne that had been spritz on a few too many times. It was odorous, and someone nauseating — a reminder of what they had done. Even after he washed, Artemis knew it would be a while before the scent truly went away, at least for his keen nose.

He was sat in the car next to Meitritrice, looking away from the assassin, out of the window. His fist clenched tightly, as he tried to digest what had just happened. Together, they had just hosted a massacre. The massacre of several members of Black Rose, a guild Artemis had once been a key part of. Another place, he had failed to fit in. He closed his eyes, feeling the sting. Why could he just belong? Everywhere he went, it was all judgement, whether it be at home with his family, in Silver Wolf, In Black rose. Nowhere would accept him, tolerate who he was and appreciate the part of Artemis he was so desperate to be accepted; himself. Not the rich boy facade he put on at Dagger events, not the playboy antics he displayed amongst women, not the violent hooligan that often found himself scrapping in a club. No, the real Artemis.

As the car pulled up, Artemis glanced over at the guy he was with, who seemed to be scouting the area. He would reach into the back and hand Artemis a piece of fabric. Commenting on how his hair made him recognisable. He said nothing, pulling it over his head, the only visible feature that remained was his red eyes. He climbed out of the car, shutting the car door behind him, and following after the guy. It was strange, following someone who was pretty much a complete stranger. Yet, he felt no hesitation. After all, not only had the guy saved his life, but he had also seen Morte. Even though, he believed that was Artemis. Still, it was a side of his magic he rarely revealed. They were something to that at least.

They walked to what looked like a shack rather than a hotel, as Artemis stepped in after Meitritrice, he would glance around the room. It was a dive if he ever saw one, not many would expect to find the heir to a Multi-billion jewel corporation hanging out in such a place. But Artemis didn't care about that right now; he didn't care about anything. He was still lost, unsure of himself, and what to do now. He caught the clothes the guy chucked his way, advising him to change. He looked at the man quietly, saying nothing. Slightly uncharacteristic for Artemis, he was still in a state of shock. His red eyes would watch as the guy grabbed his own face. He would pull the mask away from his face. Underneath he would reveal an entirely new face. Around Artemis's own age, lavender eyes and silver hair. Even as he spoke, his voice had shifted, become less gruff. Art listened to his word, answers, yes, answers would be good especially as Morte had gone quiet, too busy relishing in the suffering he had just caused. Artemis was sure the demon would be satisfied for a while.

Art nodded at the white-haired man, reaching up, he pulled off his own mask before peeling the clothes off his body, stripping down to his boxers. He would put the clothes in a bag, before heading over to the bathroom. Before he got dressed again, he wanted to wash off the scent. He walked over to the slightly grubby tap and turned the water. Watching it as it pathetically trickled out. He placed his new clothes on the side, before cupping the water and using it to wase his face and arms. His eyes trailing as the water in the sink was tinged a slightly red. Of course, it would, a fair amount of blood sprayed over him after all. He did this a few times before he was satisfied he had washed it down to a bare minimum. Reaching over for his clothes, he recognised them as straight from his wardrobe at the Dagger estate. Funny, they had even been prepared for this. He quickly got dressed, before stepping out of the bathroom, back to where Meitritrice was.

He watched idly as the guy would begin burning the clothes they had worn. His eyes solemn and tired, he heard the white-haired guys comment. Seeing the bottle that was offered out to him. He would gladly take it. Bringing the rim of the bottle to his lips, he would take several gulps of the brown liquid, some of it trickling down his chin. The whisky would offer him a comforting burn; he would bring it away, swallowing his mouthful before letting out a gasp. "Thanks," He said hoarsely, before wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

His eyes lingered on the flames before he glanced up at the other guy, who decided that they should go for a drink. "Yeah, let's." He said, Deleronark huh? He thought, surprised the guy would even bother offering him another name. Perhaps another alias, or the real thing? "I would introduce myself, but I guess my father covered that. But if you want, you can call me Art." He said, offering his own shortened name. He preferred it anyway.

Artemis followed Deleronark out of the shabby apartment, moving back out from where they came. The two men would begin to walk along the streets of Fiore; they were barely lit, quiet. It seemed a lot of time had flown by already, and the night was well underway. Most shops had long since closed up, and the only places still open were restaurants, bars, tattoo parlours, and other late-night trades. Deleronark seemed to leading Artemis away from the more popular locations that he knew of, which made sense. Having just escaped a mass slaughter meant maintaining a low profile was probably ideal. The streets would only grow quieter and more still, the deeper into, the more secluded and more deprived areas of the city they moved into. Until Artemis no longer recognised what street they were on.

As he spoke, Artemis would nod at his comment. Questions, yeah, he did have some. But the question was, did he really want to ask? There were obviously things that his father knew, things that Artemis had been unaware of. About Black Rose and their plan for the magic council. Knowing that much was frustrating enough, that instead of reaching out to Artemis himself, he had hired others to handle the matter. He just had that little faith in Artemis. Then again, maybe he was right. Artemis hadn't helped prevent the fight from breaking out. He did what he always did, he provoked. Albeit this time, he had done so unintentionally. So many times he would be in a bar, just itching for something to go down and starting on the biggest guy there just for the hell of it. To get a kick out of knocking down the toughest guys he could find. Yet today, at the Guildhall, he had actually hoped to resolve that peacefully. Perhaps, that just wanted in his nature to do so. He would always be, the centre of mayhem.

The questions, when they got round to it, he would ask, and accept the answers he got. He understood that Deleronark probably had things he wouldn't be able to reveal. For his own safety and certain degrees of confidentiality of course. But that was fine. He didn't blame the guy for the situation; he was just doing his job. Besides, he had only been put there in the first place, because of Artemis's track record and his families habit of running unnecessary interference in his life. Would he have survived without the guy? Maybe. Would he had tidied it up quite as neatly? Probably not. If things had been different, the likelihood was, Morte would've taken much more control than he had. And when Morte truly lost himself to the bloodlust, Artemis wasn't sure how long it would be before the demon got his fill of blood, days, weeks, maybe longer. Destroying a guild in order to survive, Artemis might be able to get over. But butchering innocents too, that was beyond what he could manage.

And then there was that, destroying a guild he'd once belonged to. Aiding in the annihilation of several individuals he once called guildmates. That information really had yet to sink in, the demon, Morte was quiet. He knew full well what Artemis was feeling; they had been through something similar before. So the demon was giving Artemis his peace, so his mind could settle down on the matter. It seemed Deleronark would soon lead him to a bar; it wasn't exactly the nicest of places. But Artemis had drunk in worse. He often found that places like this didn't care much about names or status. They were good places to go if one wanted to escape that.

Deleronark's words seemed to confirm that when the white-haired man ordered a whisky on the rocks. Following which Artemis would order the same, quickly learning that his family were paying for it anyway. At least there was there was some gratification in that. That for all the troubles they would cause him, at the very least they would pay for his buzz. "In that case, I'll have the bottle too." He figured doing this would save them a few trips to the bar. A glass clinked as it was placed in front of him, a bottle set alongside it. He scooped them both up, turning he would follow Deleronark to the booth. Sliding into the seat, he would raise the glass to his lips, taking two hearty gulps. Usually, he wouldn't rush down such a drink, but he needed to be numb. He didn't want to feel the way he did, at least not as strongly. Deleronark addressed him once more, ready for his questions.

Artemis looked up at him, his red eyes falling on the man who had essentially saved him. Even if it had been at his father's orders, still from what Artemis could only presume, he was probably doing more than what Lucarius expected of him. He doubted his father would approve of the two of them having gone for a drink after, but then he imagined as long as Artemis was out alive and safe, then he imagined certain misdemeanours might be excused still, what question would be best to ask first. Artemis took a moment to think, before finally speaking. "Do you work for my families company, or did he hire you privately?" He asked. To understand how much he could trust this guy, he needed to know how tied up in his families affairs he was. He didn't need to guess what it was that Deleronark did, from observing his handiwork earlier. That much had been obvious.

Artemis eyed the silver haired male, waiting quietly for his answer. He was still trying to get his head round how he was now sitting in a bar, talking to the man who had helped him destroy his old guild. It seemed so surreal, that they had moved into this casual drinking scenario, two others they just seemed like two casual young males in their twenties sharing a drink. But it was more than that, what they had shared, Artemis just couldn't comprehend it. He was surprised by his own reaction,  Artemis had never approved of things like this. The dark deeds committed by his family, it wasn't in his nature, at least he didn't believe it was. To heartlessly kill others, to take away from others for the sake of your own benefit. Okay, so maybe not the latter so much, but life was so finite. Yet, this guy had eliminated like it, as though it meant nothing. Yet, Artemis couldn't judge, he couldn't reject him. Because, Artemis had done the same, maybe he was more like his family than he realised. He was a Dagger after all.

He spoke, answering Artemis question. At first he explained that he wasn't a Dagger Corp. employee, which most likely also meant that he didn't work for them. He followed comment made Artemis scoff. "Worried huh? Yeah worried about his damn legacy alright. I can see it now, 'Dagger Family Heir taken out by his own guild,' That would be a shitstorm for him."  He grumbled irritably. As far as Artemis was aware, they still had an heir regardless, but for the son to fall fool to the antics of a guild he willingly joined. It would be a shame on the family. Their reputation would be fraught, the media would have a frenzy and the Dagger families stature would take a severe blow. Ensuring he made the 'right decision', that was laughable, he never made the right decision. At least not according to them, ever action he seemed to take tended to work against the families values and expectations of them.

He continued on, talking about his father disapproval of what they were doing. No change there then. As far as he was concern, his father had influenced his actions enough tonight. If he knew something like this was at risk of going down, he could have warned him. Giving him a different option, a way to get out before things go to bad. It didn't need to escalate such a way, he could have left on his own accord. He could have just walked out and never gone back, before he knew the guilds secret. Before he became at risk. Maybe it was a punishment, a punishment for not informing them of his transfer from Silver Wolf to Black Rose. Maybe there was a different reason, but if he had just known. Things could have been different, all those people, they may still be alive right now.

"I can only assume, my father used some sort of private investigator to find out about the guild's true intentions, perhaps even a mole. So, I guess, my question is, when were you assigned this job?" He asked, he wanted to know how long this plan had been in the works. Just how long they had known, how much time they had in which they could have contacted him instead, given him a way out. How long had they sat on the decision to leave him in the dark. He sighed at Deleronark's question, shrugging, normally he would dodge such a question, pass it off with a random remark or joke. But for some reason, Artemis didn't feel like playing around the bush. It wasn't like it was worth trying to keep secrets from this guy, he had seen him at near enough his worst. What else was their to hide? Also, he didn't feel like Deleronark was the type to go blabbing about such things.

"I'm sure you're aware my family come from a long line of prestigious nobles, my ancestors had long since lived a life of high class and upstanding nature. Every Dagger is expected to live respectably and are expected to carry the strength of the family name in their existence. No one ever failed that expectation, until me. You see, I was born without magic, weak and powerless. A disappointment from the beginning, were I belonging to one of the outer rings of the family, this may not be so much of a concern. But, I am not. I am the first born son of Lucarius Dagger, and therefore the heir to the family's estate as well as position in society. My life has never followed the same path as the rest of my family, and I know that. So I guess, I resist it. I do not wish to abide by the laws they attempt to govern me with, but live by my own volition. My own rules. Yet as you can see, that doesn't always work in my favour."

So it turned out the man sat across from him wasn't as involved as Artemis speculated, a private agent that was hired last minute to handle the matter within the space of a week. And handle it he had, the two of them somehow managed to 'handle' the entirety of the remaining Black Rose members without much effort at all. Artemis felt a small notion of relief, knowing that he wasn't sitting with a man too intertwined with his family. It would have been hard to feel comfortable trusting all this stuff with someone who was in his father's pocket.

After finishing his long explanation about why it was he always seemed to find himself in these 'awkward situations'. Artemis would bring his drink to his lips once more and knock it back, draining the contents of the glass completely. Feeling he needed it after being so thoroughly honest about a part of his life he rarely felt he could talk about. Whenever anyone asked him about his family, he always changed the subject or gave them a vague answer. Because frnakly, he didn't like talking about it, or they generally misunderstood. Like Amora, when he had tried to tell her he was restrained by his name. She had answered so casually, telling him that a person's name didn't define who they were or who they could become. Yet he was living proof this was a lie. If his name didn't mean anything then why was he so trapped by it. He hadn't even been able to exist as a member of Silver Wolf without his Grandfather breathing down his neck about not doing anything to ruin their reputation. Then there was this whole Black Rose ordeal, a perfect example of how his father's eyes were always on him. Watching him like a hawk, and ready to take action without even consulting Artemis on how he might feel about the matter. She had been so naive, Artemis saw that clearer than ever now.

Artemis reached over to the bottle and top his drink up another round. His could feel the alcohol starting to kick in, making him feel lighter. The weight that was resting on his shoulders almost felt like it was lifting off slightly. He was feeling a little better, but not a great deal. He was still fairly worn down by the whole ordeal. He glanced at Deleronark as he spoke, he eyed him for a moment. The red-heads lips curled into a smirk, he let out a soft chuckle. "Might as well,"  He said, raising his drink, he would tap it gently against the 'assassins' making a rather satisfying clinking sound as he did. "Cheers to parental disappointment."  He said in an amused tone, before taking another drink. He didn't drain the drink this time, only took a hearty gulp, swallowing it down before lowering his glass. Licking his lips, he tilted his head thoughtfully, "So if you don't mind me asking, what's with the career choice? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not judging. Do what suits your skill set right? But you seem like a pretty talented mage, why not be a guild mage like so many others seem to do." The guy's magic had been that of someone who was well-trained, Artemis may have been assuming too much. But the whisky was giving him a somewhat looser tongue, and he wanted to know. It wasn't every day you got to have a casual chat with a professionally trained assassin. The twenty-two-year-old was curious, what was it that led someone down such a cold path?

Artemis would nod his head casually as Deleronark explained him, although his answer was fairly simplistic. It seemed that it was just the man's fate that had led him to this lifestyle. Much like how Arty's birth had led him to his. But still, morally, the twenty-two year old still couldn't quite wrap himself around the notion of killing so easily. He knew his father had killed, as had his grandfather and his father before him. His uncles and other members of his family surely had too. It was encouraged amongst the Daggers, not to be killers but to have the stomach to do it if necessary. To take out your enemies at any cost. His father seemed to expect it of him, although for what reason he wasn't entirely sure. He knew as heir to the Dagger household and business, it was his responsibility to take charge and run the family. But did that really require all of that? Artemis wasn't sure what to expect, all he knew was dread, dread and uncertainty for the time it came to be. As much of a pain as he was, he would hope his Grandfather and own father would have a long life expectancy. So that they could shoulder that burden for as long as possible, and so he could keep his freedom.

As the man continued, he would relate to Artemis's need for independence. Which actually did help him come to understand where the silver-haired fellow was coming from. "I suppose that makes sense. Guess it's just not something I could see myself doing, to be honest." He told the guy, blissfully unaware of the bitter irony in those words. If only he knew in a few months time that the very work he was quizzing the man about, would be the work he would be forced to undergo. The position he would be made to take as a result of his family. In this moment of time, he would but remain pleasantly ignorant. Drinking in the company of a man who was practically a strange, thinking that hopefully after tonight, things would return to normal.


"So like... are you one of those all work and no play types or do you do other stuff too? I can't imagine being a non-stop..." He glanced around, remembering they were in public and terms like 'contract killer' probably wasn't ideal. "'you-know-what' would get a little stressful, or maybe even dull? Then again, perhaps normal hobbies would seem dull in comparison."  He added with a thoughtful shrug, before taking another hearty sip of his whisky. This was better, he was feeling comfortable enough to talk to the man normally. If it hadn't been for the whole mass-destruction of Black Rose thing, it probably would've been a decent affair. It had been a long time since Artemis had gone out drinking with a mate, a lot of his 'drinking buddies' were busy these days. Settled down with girlfriends, or trying to make an honest living. Sometimes they came out, but less frequently than they used to. It was just so hard to find anyone decent to party with these days.

The warming buzz of the whiskey was really starting to sink in now, this much of the undiluted alcohol was enough to make even an experienced boozer like himself a bit tiddly. But that was okay, that was good actually. After the shock of the nights experience, he needed this. To let it slip away into a haze of intoxicated, a distraction of merriment to pull himself from the tragic reminder of his families hold on him. Not to mention the pull of death that Morte had once again brought into his life, something that lurked after the demon no matter how much he tried to avoid it. The more death Morte into his life, the greater his own fear grew. Fear that he would become like him as Morte once suggested to him, several years ago.

As Del explained to Artemis how easy it was for him, how merely if something worthy was on the line then anyone could be pulled into to doing it. "So I guess if I have nothing...or rather no one to kill for, I'm less inclined to. Ha! Good thing I am the eternal bachelor then isn't it?" He remarked chuckling over his glass, he had been single for many years now. Aside from the odd fling here and there, the most he'd formed since her was the occasional friends with benefits scenario, and even that never lasted. Which was fine, things were simpler this way, less messy.

He laughed at the silver-haired jokes, "Ahh yes, my hero, well I'm sure a dashing damsel like me was worth your precious time, much jewels and my charming company." He quipped back, flicking her hair back in an effeminate manner to add to the joke. Before having a final swig of his glass, fortunately for him, the good man had the sense to order more. Artemis approved, the night was young and he still had much to drink before he was a semblance of okay. If he could okay after this, that was yet to be deterred. But still, distraction, in any manner, was welcome. Artemis followed Del's gaze as he suggested they liven up the party. He would catch the eyes of the women that he had spotted, and a devilish grin split across his face. "Now you're talking."

WC: 386 Art's Total: 4255
Thread total 7511 Tag: @Deleronark