“Your name was on the bidding card, of course.”
Yasu couldn't be more embarrassed by such a simple statement if he tried, and the mocking laughter in his ear did little to ease the slight burn to the back of his neck that crept to his ears, threatening his features. Of course the man knew. It was such a simple and obvious thing, but it had completely slipped his mind during proper introductions, and he was awash to think he'd missed such a simple fact. Normally he was so attentive in his every day.
Was it simply the presence Myk gave that threw him so off his usual game? Or simply being about in such a crowded atmosphere? There were a multiple of new faces compared to his usual surroundings. The closest he got to such numbers was in the dojo while teaching, and even those couldn't compare. Still, he'd done well this far to keep his composure, yet something about the strange figure was so curious, that his usual stoic demeanor faltered in the face of it.
He was fascinated above everything, and that fascination was almost embarrassing. True, people could be fascinating, but that was rare, and usually only in a situation where he'd be watching from a distance. Books were normally the only thing of fascination or interest he'd take to in such a personal manner. All he could do in the face of such new discomfort was clear his throat a little, as if to center some of his mind and ignore the mockery to his pride shadowing him.
Of course, recovery was impossible in the face of such a chaotic man as Myk. He'd barely managed to catch his thoughts when suddenly one of his boxes was taken hostage, as the stranger made up his mind. Though the words might have seemed open to debate or reconsideration, there was something final in actions and tone that made argument difficult. His plans to unpack in peace and sort his thoughts in recovery were quickly dashed, and he sort of stood there in an awkward, taken aback fashion. It didn't seem polite to disagree in this situation, but the abruptness threw his careful consideration out the window.
With some reluctance, he nodded and moved to pack up the last of his things. Everything he did was an action of clear care and orderliness. Things were packed in their perfect place, tucked away where everything was meant to be. From what had been seen thus far, it was easy for any onlooker to determine the two were like fire and ice. Chaos and Order now tied together for a short while, in what could surely only be for the entertainment of gods and onlookers alike.
And of course, the lovely specter over Yasu's shoulder, who was having quite the fun time trying to insert all sorts of terrible ideas and thoughts into the young mans head.
With everything packed, Yasu would lead the way out of the building and into the cold air. The temperature had dropped since he'd arrived, and he fought off a shiver as he tugged his coat around. Of course, he was still getting used to the temperature, which had taught him to value the rain of his homeland and never complain about the cold of Ireland again. The winters alone here had made him almost question the sanity of trying to make a home in this living death trap.
Luckily there was no ice to threaten his luck today, and the walk down the streets was quiet, if a little awkward still. Myk was a curious enigma, and Yasu was at a loss for what to say. It was only an hours walk at most to his home and shop, but it was a long hour to spend in anothers company without conversation. When words failed to be brought to life, though, he made do with simply studying the other from the corner of his eye. There was just something so peculiar about the man, that he wanted to make some sense out of the senselessness surrounding him.
Mysterious Mysteries (Myk)
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Myk
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Re: Mysterious Mysteries (Myk)
Patience, while a virtue to many, was sometimes lacking for the Telepath. Still, he did his very best impression of a mannequin as he watched the Human thoughtfully gather the last of his possessions. Yasu’s demeanour was curious, leading Myk to reflect on each purposeful and considered act and attribute them to an alternative scenario. It made the white-haired man contemplate the remorseful duties of a mother packing away the belongings of her adult child; enshrining baby-grows and tiny socks into a tomb of cardboard, ready to be packed into the attic and forgotten. There was a sense of undesired conformity lingering in each careful placement of books into boxes, with Myk representing the cruel passage of time and the effect it has on most mortals: pushing them along the path to their final destination. And perhaps Myk was as unmoved by these emotions as the entity of time. He’d lost all sense of empathy for these volunteer prisoners when he’d come to appreciate the truth of things: that despite there being little to no control over the way of the world and the people within it, that individuals did have control over their own actions, behaviours, and feelings.
Once they were finally done with the packing, Yasu led the white-haired Vampire to the exit of the club and subsequently out into the night. The air was brisk enough to make the Telepath question his outfit choice and long for something he could drape over him – perhaps something made out of rabbit fur or duck feathers, something tactile enough that he could enjoy the feel of it while he lost himself in idle thought. It was fortunate enough that they were not standing still, but leisurely walking down the street to a destination known only to the mortal – and he did not appear to want to share the details without prompting. Instead of asking this question outright, Myk decided to speak about the relative matter.
“You’re rather quiet,” Myk uttered out of sheer observation, but the depth of his voice and the haughty nature of the proper English accent he’d adopted suddenly had dressed the innocent remark into a condemnation.
Myk hadn’t entirely noticed the disparaging tenor of his comment, but he had reflected on the impression of the words and their context to the degree that he recognised it as rude regardless. And of course, Myk’s reaction when stumbling across such a thing was to chuckle to himself before redressing his words.
“I only mean that you don’t appear to be loud, obnoxious, aggressive, or game-playing. Which means that you’re not the typical volunteer for the occasion back there. Or very typical at all in the grand scheme of things…” Myk trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Your interests,” he offered then as he thumbed through the books from the box he was still carrying with just a single arm. “Your career. Your heritage and what-not. All very atypical for this city and its... events. Yes, that works. And I didn’t mean it as a criticism… either way. Just an observation.”
Myk paused, both with his words and with his actions, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk. Pewter eyes made the very casual and intimate stroll over the mortal’s exterior; judging each and every aspect they observed until Myk came to a declarative conclusion.
“You are also dressed well,” he added with a small smile before nodding and picking up the pace yet again. He had planned on being quiet, allowing Yasu to settle back into what seemed like his comfort zone, but then it occurred to him that he didn’t know where they were going. “Oh!” he began, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Where are we going?”
Once they were finally done with the packing, Yasu led the white-haired Vampire to the exit of the club and subsequently out into the night. The air was brisk enough to make the Telepath question his outfit choice and long for something he could drape over him – perhaps something made out of rabbit fur or duck feathers, something tactile enough that he could enjoy the feel of it while he lost himself in idle thought. It was fortunate enough that they were not standing still, but leisurely walking down the street to a destination known only to the mortal – and he did not appear to want to share the details without prompting. Instead of asking this question outright, Myk decided to speak about the relative matter.
“You’re rather quiet,” Myk uttered out of sheer observation, but the depth of his voice and the haughty nature of the proper English accent he’d adopted suddenly had dressed the innocent remark into a condemnation.
Myk hadn’t entirely noticed the disparaging tenor of his comment, but he had reflected on the impression of the words and their context to the degree that he recognised it as rude regardless. And of course, Myk’s reaction when stumbling across such a thing was to chuckle to himself before redressing his words.
“I only mean that you don’t appear to be loud, obnoxious, aggressive, or game-playing. Which means that you’re not the typical volunteer for the occasion back there. Or very typical at all in the grand scheme of things…” Myk trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Your interests,” he offered then as he thumbed through the books from the box he was still carrying with just a single arm. “Your career. Your heritage and what-not. All very atypical for this city and its... events. Yes, that works. And I didn’t mean it as a criticism… either way. Just an observation.”
Myk paused, both with his words and with his actions, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk. Pewter eyes made the very casual and intimate stroll over the mortal’s exterior; judging each and every aspect they observed until Myk came to a declarative conclusion.
“You are also dressed well,” he added with a small smile before nodding and picking up the pace yet again. He had planned on being quiet, allowing Yasu to settle back into what seemed like his comfort zone, but then it occurred to him that he didn’t know where they were going. “Oh!” he began, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Where are we going?”
