A technicolor dreamer (dancevdragon) wrote in 10_rpscenes, @ 2007-08-27 19:22:00 |
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Current mood: | chipper |
Entry tags: | blasphemy_blue&dancevdragon:d.gray-man:h |
Reunion of the knights (Tiki/Allen) HW #4
Title: Reunion of the knights
Authors: dancevdragon and blasphemy_blue
Characters: Allen Walker and Tiki Mick
Fandom: D.Grayman
Theme Set: Heavy weight #4
Theme(s): Angels and/or Demons
Warnings and Notes: Swearing, D.grayman spoilers (little ones),Alternate Universe (Post series). This is set three years after the series, Allen's 18 and Tiki is 29.
It was a strange sort of purgatory, the place that he called home- Dirty streets and smoky skies, with dust-covered people to wander them. Filth and decay, accompanied by far too many reminders of the failures and mistakes of the past. His journey to work wasn't a walk that he looked forward to, though his perspective may have changed if there was a breath of fresh air he could take on the way. The only thing to hope for was a glance of someone familiar... But he never saw that glimpse of petticoats, or long blonde hair, or leather clothes. They'd all been scattered to the four corners of normalcy, in that final Holy battle. He didn't even know if they were still alive.
Tiki Mick had changed in so many ways since that day. His hair was a bit longer, kept neat and tied back in a small ribbon. His skin had kept a darker, caramel complexion, as well, and the Black form he had once used in small amounts was obvious in his appearance. The day he had lost his mind, his white side had faded into personality and mannerisms, leaving the sophisticated Noah without his crosses but keeping his charm on a day to day basis.
The Noah was rather discreet with his identity, anyways. There was always that chance someone would come by- An Exorcist with a vendetta, perhaps even the Earl. He was Tiki Mick to his employer, but his apartment had been purchased under a different name with cash. It had that extra room ready, just in case, but it was unoccupied and he lived alone just as he had for months. The bar he found employment in was far from a savory establishment, all the same. He was a bartender, mixing drinks until the crack of dawn every night, and during the earlier hours he was cleaning the bar within an inch of its life. It didn't help, really, and Tiki had a feeling the bar had been built with the dirt and grime as part of its existence.
He stepped through the door with a sigh, the dim lighting doing nothing to help his temper as he slung his coat over the hook behind the counter. "Anything you need me to do now? I cleaned after closing last night already." Tiki's tone did nothing to falsify enthusiasm, and his expression didn't forge the emotion, either. He just took the papers he was handed and moved off into the back of the building, trudging up the dark stairs with a grumble of annoyance and sneeze at the dust.
Warriors were not needed when a war was over. They were expected to just pick up life where they left off and act like anyone else. Murder and violence; chief cup and bottler washers that you kept close to you during your time defending your way of life would get you thrown in the clink. For a young man who had only known war and traveling, living in regular society was akin to stepping into foreign country. It was lucky he had skills from his days of exorcist training to help him make it by. Still he wished his skill with money managing wasn't what had got him a steady job. It made him keep looking over his shoulder, expecting a tall red haired former general to show up on the steps of his flat with a stack of debts to pay.
He shuddered and took a quick sip of the mug of Earl Grey tea sitting innocently on one corner of his small desk at the very thought. Allen Walker had grown up in the few years he hadn't had to worry about when he'd buy the proverbial farm. He was roughly five foot nine in height, and his snowy white hair had grown longer. He didn't bother to cut it; it reached the middle of his shoulders but he tended to keep it tied back. He'd profess it did look like a bird's tail in a way. The wiry, slim muscular build remained and he had fallen back on simple vests, button up shirts, and slacks. He had never had the heart to throw out his boots or the cross that remained on his frock coat despite the times.
He still pondered if his sanity was still present considering he was once again handling money, just without the debt. Allen frowned as he leaned back to check the time on the wall clock of his tiny office. He couldn't remember when he'd got into work today...or was it this night? The end of the month accounting and book keeping always hit him the hardest; it was his own fault really. He preferred to get it all done before the deadline. Unlike most small business accountants, Allen used the double entry system. Not only did it make things easier for him when he recorded everything, but it made the financial statements as accurate as he could get them.
So here he was with the daybooks stacked up on one side of the old wooden nightmare he called his desk. He'd had to pay for the oil he used in his overhead lamp himself, but still the boy used reading glasses. He pushed them up with a finger and thumped his face into the open, sales invoice book with a curse. "I'm missing last night's sales records." The former exorcist groaned as he covered his head with both gloved hands. "Bugger." Admittedly he hadn't been here last night and the manager who normally left those on his desk for when he got in, hadn't.
Which it meant pulling himself from the world of credits, debits, and equations long enough to trudge down the stairs? He was fairly sure he didn't have the energy to make it that far.
Hell had a squeaky doorknob, apparently. Tiki couldn't get the damn thing open, though he finally shoved it in successfully. The door creaked open softly as if it were cooperative as could be, earning itself a snarl from the man as he stalked past it. He found the small office off the very short passageway quickly enough, not even bothering to knock before he yanked the door ajar and stepped in to toss the papers on the desk. "Boss sent those up. Make sure you-" The Noah had to wonder why his throat suddenly froze when he saw the white hair in the lamplight.
It was completely possible it was just some old man sitting there, after all, but the color and the texture were all too familiar. Tiki couldn't really help but stare, confusion and shock obvious in his eyes, though his expression was still blank. There was an evil, very alive Exorcist sitting at the accounts desk, he was sure of it. The question was, how was he supposed to react?
That voice; he heard in his nightmares sometimes. He had to be asleep; he'd dozed off when he should be working. It had to be that, not reality where a pen and his head full of math earned him a paycheck. Quietly, Allen let his hands rest on the daybook and he raised his head to see if it was all a dream. But it wasn't and his gray eyes widened at the sight of a very familiar enemy. His lips moved as if to say something but no sound came out. The world as he'd come to understand it, suddenly didn't feel quite right anymore. Then again it never had. "If you don't mind, please tell Charles I'll have the financial statements for him before I leave today."
He avoided looking at the other man as he picked back up his gray pen. If this was about to turn into murder that was one thing, but all he had left was this state of normality. The world had no more need for Exorcists. Everything was turning on the wheels of progress as if their grand battles had never happened at all. He wasn't content with it, but there was nothing else left to him. The young man collected the tossed papers and leafed through them before pushing up his reading glasses.
But his shoulders were tense and his back straight, as he coughed quietly. He prayed this was just a dream and not the waking world where he'd have to face the Noah.
He stood there in silence for what had to be ages- He just stared at the boy, looking as if he'd seen a ghost, but this specter had grown up since he'd seen him last. Even when he spoke, his voice had changed.... Tiki shook his head, closing his eyes for a long moment before opening them yet again. Still there, still the boy. He smiled slightly, not sure why he found this so amusing despite how surreal it was.
"Fancy meeting you here, boy." Tiki spoke softly, leaning against the doorframe as comfortably as he could manage. "Lost your vision?" He couldn't really think of anything else to say in this situation. It was awkward, really, and more than strange, but he could take it in stride. The very least he could do was act as though nothing was wrong.
He set the papers in order and grabbed the bank receipts daybook. He didn't want to think about the past, it would remind him of what he'd lost. But Tiki wasn't going away. Allen cracked the spine on the book before he shut it with a snap. "I can say the same." To be honest he'd expected to accidentally run into Kanda or Rabi this way, not someone who he wished he hadn't tried to save. The results had been the opposite and it was another coin in the guilt jar. Still it was soothing to have another who knew where he was coming from around.
He took a moment to remove his glasses and clean them off. "No, I only use them for reading these documents and keeping the books. It enables me to work longer without a headache from all the figures." He folded them neatly and slipped them into the case that sat by the tea cup. He studied the other in the silence, and then his expression softened as he leaned back in his chair and smiled tiredly. "I'm afraid don't know what else to say." Allen glanced at the wall clock before rubbing his temples. "...Other than 'long time no see' but I do believe we've moved past that."
God, the normality sounded so damn fake. He shut his eyes for a moment before he broke from acting like this was absolutely normal. "...I sound like any other of these boring, little, skittery roaches of the accounting staff." It felt good to get that out and he made a motion with one hand. "Just come in and shut the door, I can make up an excuse why you took so long up here. If you want." He added as he shifted in his seat.
Tiki watched the boy carefully, eyes almost aching to narrow, but he kept his expression neutral; there wasn't any reason to be truly suspicious of him, after all. There was no war... There wasn't any reason for any of it. The Noah made a sighing sound, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and shift his weight to both feet. "I can do as I please until it's almost time to open. I work the bar." Taking the few steps inside was far from comfortable, but he shut the door behind himself carefully, brushing off the front of his shirt before moving to take a seat.
A survey of the desk between them made the Noah's brow rise in curiosity. Accounting? He'd known the boy was rather bright, but he hadn't imagined he'd go on to something as droll as mathematics as a career. Numbers completely puzzled Tiki Mick, though he had something of a good excuse for that. Only a few scant years of education had taught him the bare basics he needed for the real world, and god knew he hadn't used much of that in his former lifestyle. He could count money, but sometimes the problem of making change gave him trouble on a busy night.
That wasn't really the point, though. Allen was much more educated that Tiki, but the man was far ahead on the account of street smarts. He finally looked up to the Exorcist with a slight smile, not sure if it seemed too cocky or just a bit nervous. "I'm not sure whether I'm glad to see you or scared witless, to be entirely honest." His tone carried a hint of sarcasm, though the statement was less than humorous. "Of course, I don't know how to react too many things since that whole affair of the War ended."
"Well that makes things easy. The moment I get here I have to get my butt to this office." He straightened up his desk a little and eyed the daybooks with a little frown. He was used to traveling all over the world, it suited him better. But this paid the bills and for now that was all that mattered in this boring world that was like a surreal dream. Allen pushed his hair out of his eyes and took a sip of his tea to hide his brooding thoughts.
Despite how he looked, he was street smart. Just the type of smarts of the street was likely very different from what Tiki knew. The accountant set the mug down and cut his train of thought short. He could only thank Bak for having the patience to educate him while he was recovering from the last battle of the war. He blearily reminded himself to actually send a letter and to stop hiding away from them. Hell, Kanda wrote more often than he did. He snapped out of his thoughts and quietly rubbed his temples.
Why did he have to encounter Tiki? It shattered his simple world and made him want to look back at the road he'd taken to get this far. He shifted a little as he studied Tiki's smile before his gray eyes widened just a fraction. The former exorcist's smile was the old fake polite one as he set his pen down. "I'm not going to lift a finger to harm you Tiki." He sobered with a shake of his head and met the Noah's gaze quietly for a moment. "I highly doubt you're alone there. I have the same problem. Though for me its just settling back into old habits." He tugged at his gloves to make sure they stayed on.
His cover story was he'd badly burned his hands when he was younger. Allen's voice took a faint sarcastic tone, but his expression was completely serious. "So if you happen to see a bunch of people with torches and pitchforks muttering about a demon. And then discover I've been absent from work for a week because I quit in a hurry. You'll know why."
"You don't strike me as the bartending sort, I hate to say." Tiki's tone was ever so slightly wry at the words, a slight smile on his face at the mental image. The boy had changed quite a bit, really, but he was sure everyone had changed like this. Older, worn down, and perhaps just a bit raw on the nerves. Allen's change in expression, though- That certainly took him for a loop. "You never really know who you can trust in these times, boy." His voice was a bit softer, watching Allen carefully as he adjusted the gloves.
"I take it the Innocence didn't return to its Creator after it was all over, then?" The Noah hadn't really known what to expect, except that perhaps God would take away all the proof the war had ever existed. Sometimes he used the small mirror in his apartment and shifted to his dark form just to be sure it was still there- That he hadn't imagined the entire thing. Being driven crazy by normality and mundane living. "I'd let you stay with me if that sort of thing happened."
Tiki's tone was short, gaze suddenly directed away from the Exorcist. He wasn't kidding, really, though he hadn't the slightest idea why he'd made the offer. Perhaps there was the proof, again- Perhaps it was just the fact that someone else had chosen this plane of hell as their postwar territory. Either way, if the boy left, Tiki was well aware he'd be standing in that mirror again and checking every day. Too many things disappearing in this world.
"You'd be surprised, ever hauled crab out of the ocean just off the Scottish coast? It’s a pain in the ass, but the pay is good. Couldn't stand it for a steady living though." He shrugged lightly before resting his arms on his desk. He shifted just a little so he more comfortable. "I learned that since birth, Tiki." Allen spoke quietly a trace of old bitterness he could never hide in his voice. "No, it didn't." His expression said what he couldn't for the sake of pride, say aloud. He didn't want to think of what it would have been like to wake up without something that had been with him since he breathed for the very first time.
The boy blinked in surprise before he peered at the Noah. He swallowed before a tired but very real smile slid across his face and curved the edges of his lips. "Thank you, if something happened...I'd do the same for you." He felt old, as if sitting here he'd gained thousands of years and all of them weighed down on him. Being an Exorcist meant nothing in these times, when it was all over. He looked at the wall, looking at the worn wood that gave the office a slightly musty smell. "I guess this is what it feels like to have your wings ripped off." He whispered before he looked at the other again.
"I can't tell you how good it feels to be discussing something other than things the rest of the world considers perfectly normal."
"Can't say I'm much of a seaman. I prefer mines, but none tend to hire on for very long periods of time these days." Tiki tsked softly at the words, about to say something about a certain General but deciding to keep it to him-self. Trust wasn't a thing that came easily to anyone with half a brain, in his opinion, but not many people liked to hear that. Allen's smile dragged a surprised glance out of the man, lasting for only a moment before he looked away again. A sigh betrayed him, though, the eyes closing as he set his feet up on the edge of the desk and rubbed his forehead with one hand.
"Ripped is a severe understatement, lad. I'd describe it something along the lines of having my wings torn off feather by feather before having them flayed and skinned, scattered to the wind, and then we simply can't forget-" He cut himself off with a sound of assent. Tiki wouldn't let himself go into the family thing again. He'd gotten over it for the most part, and talking about it with the boy wouldn't get anywhere. "I'm that mad Portuguese man who needs to have children kept away from him. I'm hardly considered normal, I must say."
"Mines give me the creeps, but then me and underground never got along." Allen had trusted Mana, Cross...well, Cross he was leery of and had no choice but to work with. Considering the man taught him how to be an exorcist. Not exactly thoughts he wished to entertain right now. He winced and tried to hide it before he sighed heavily. "...That pretty accurately describes it." The former Exorcist rested his head on his arms as he smiled a little. "I'm the creepy, polite British young adult who should not be allowed near thugs because he can kick the shit out of them. How do you do. By the way do you still play poker?"
"I've grown up working in mines. Great way to make money- They pay you more because of the risk, you know." He glanced up as the boy's tone changed, wondering if he was up to something and then just shaking off the suspicion. "I do, occasionally. Lost a bit of my touch, unfortunately, seeing how I haven't had the cash to even put in a game after I pay for food and the rent." Tiki shook his head slowly, tilting it back and popping his neck. "Being normal is a pain in the ass. I don't have an automatic loan supplier to go to anymore."
"I grew up traveling with a circus troupe, too used to the open air." Allen shut his eyes as he lazed on his desk for once. "I've had the same problem. Though the touch I haven't lost, I play poker once a week with the nun in the chapel on the corner. She might not look like it for an old lady but she's a card shark." And a profession cheat who taught him how to cheat, be he wouldn't say that. "It really is a pain in the ass. Playing poker for pretzels isn't the same as playing for cash. Bright side of it all is never ending up in debt."
"None of that to be found here." Tiki sounded a bit annoyed at his own words, smoothing one of his brows with the tip of a finger. "I don't live near any churches. I don't find it reasonable to pray to a God that would rather abandon his chosen." The ice in his tone was obvious, though it wasn't directed at Allen.
"Sadly so." Allen sat up quietly and finished off the last of his tea. "I don't pray either, I only go there to see her. I owe her, and I always repay debts. I could give a shit less about God and religion in general." He tried not to let that last sentence sound bitter, but he'd lost too much to God and the religion most practiced in this day and age. He rubbed his temples as he took a moment to regain his composure. "That aside; I'd be willing to play poker with you. If you ever wanted too, not for cash, because neither you nor I could afford to do that."
Tiki was silent for a long moment after the boy's response, almost seeming as if he hadn't heard the offer. He finally looked at the Exorcist, though, expression tired and drawn. "That would be nice. Maybe in a few days after work or something, huh? I can't say my place is kept too well, but it's got a table and some cards." He smiled slightly at last, a faint emotion. "I can probably manage to get a bottle of something to share, too."
"In a few days would work, I have to finish end of the month finances in the next two days so it would be a way to relax." He smiled quietly and picked back up his pen. "My place I doubt is any better." Allen was relieved to see some emotion from Tiki. It made him lose the last of the tension in his shoulders. "If you can't, I can. I still have some old bottles of scotch and a bottle of Madeira wine around somewhere."
If Tiki's ears would have been able to perk up, they certainly would have- As it was; his eyes were just a bit brighter as he grinned at the boy. "Well, then, mine will have to do. I'll make us something for dinner, as well." He always did love a good evening with company. At the very least he had the Madeira to look forward to. "How does Saturday sound? After this place closes I have Sunday night free. Do they make you work when this mess is closed?"
Allen stretched before he thought about it. He brightened at the prospect of not just a poker game but dinner too. "Saturday works for me. Sometimes I do have to work when this place is closed, only during the end of the month though. Its not too bad. I just find it annoying the boss refuses to supply us with oil for our lamps." He pointed at the lamp above them with a sigh. "It just adds another bill, since I don't want to have to use those glasses all the time."
Tiki's smile looked just a bit more than happy, nodding with a sound of assent at Allen's complaint. "It's hard to see anything downstairs when you're mixing, either. I never know if I'll accidentally grab vodka instead of absinthe and give some patron a shock they didn't want." The Noah glanced over his shoulder as he heard some creak on the stairway, sighing in annoyance as he kicked his feet off the desk and started to push himself to stand. "I'll be in trouble if I get caught up here, no matter what the excuse is."
He sounded a bit irritated that he had to cut the meeting short, but his pocketbook knew what was more important. "I live over in the East District. Address is in the employment records, I'm sure, but I'll find some way to give you directions before Friday, alright?"
He quirked a bit of a smile before he rose to his feet. The creak on the stairs made him sigh however and he padded around the side of the desk. "I'll be in trouble if they catch me not working, no matter the excuse." Allen sounded frustrated to have to cut things short, but he had to pay his bills. "I'm in the South District, and it likely is. Alright, I'll likely either be up here or just getting here on five am this Friday."
Tiki paused as he heard footsteps moving past the door, hand resting on the doorknob for a moment before he shook his head and took it away. "There are always ways to avoid being caught, though.~" He placed a hand against the wall, pausing and glancing back at Allen one last time. "I'll be seeing you Friday morning, boy. Don't forget the wine for our dinner."
He was through the wall and halfway down the stairs before he quite knew it. He hadn't been caught, at least, but his heart was racing for a reason he couldn't place. Ridiculous, really. The Noah paused as he made his way behind the bar again, taking a seat on the stool in the back corner and resting his head on the wall. Things had certainly changed... Though not that much, Tiki thought with a rather wry smile. Tapping a cigarette out of his scratched up silver case, he let it rest between his lips, lighting it with a match and watching the paper flare and darken. Strange how much that damned boy had grown up. Still looked like a fuck-able little angel, though Tiki knew the innocent appearance was far from telling.
"You're going mad, Mick." The words were muttered softly past the cigarette, the match burning his fingers as it went out with a soft hiss of smoke and the stench of sulfur. "Bloody insane." There was no way he'd have invited the Exorcist over if he was in his right mind, but it was done now.
Tiki just had to be certain he kept a tight hold of himself while the boy was over. That was all.