Rest and Relaxation (Cassius/Aaron)

[jarahamee]

(Post Burning Desire Thread)

Cassius waited in the bottom floor of the hospital, dressed in a dark standing-collar suit. His graying hair was still wet from the sleet that had been pouring down outside, and he smeared a small amount off his face with irritation. Everything besides his shirt was black, including his mood, and he mulled over everything he had learned with an uncharacteristically sour expression, shifting in his boots. The dourness of his face made him look even more unpleasant than usual and his lowered brows made his eyes glint a cruel, unfathomable black. The briefing was an unpleasant shock to say the least, layered on the matters of the last few weeks like a stinging slap to the face.

The kidnapped agent was Telmore, the kidnapper, Viktoria, his lover, the missing woman he had fretted over for the last few weeks now. The chain of absurdity of the events that transpired around him, from his suspension to unwelcome visitors, to his own brief life as a suspect in the crime. And now, Aaron had been kidnapped and tortured, betrayed, he was sure, by double agents in his own beloved department. It enraged him to think that anyone would torture Aaron for any purpose, and much less for such information. He gritted his teeth until the friction made them grind and squeak with resistance. To think that all of this had living right under his nose, festering away. He tried not to dwell on it, at least for now, there was duty to attend to. The circumstances were not his to understand, but he was sure that there was more there.

Now, he waited in the lobby for Telmore to reappear, with what he imagined would be his belongings. He was sure that this, like all matters that had to do with a hospital, would take some time. This was something age had prepared him for.

However, in keeping with his usual habit, Aaron appeared promptly. He carried nothing more than a small case containing surely no more than the necessities. Dressed in casual wear, a thick cable knit sweater and jeans under a winter coat, he seemed ill at home in his clothing. With his demeanor, he could almost be showing up for another day at work, his posture formal, but perhaps a shade stiff as though from residual bruising. Aaron offered nothing by way of greeting, just a slightly curt nod. He had been informed of the arrangement but could do nothing about it. If not Cassius, he would be assigned to someone else, perhaps equally suspect. There was no way of knowing yet.

Cassius smiles slightly when Aaron appears, and steps towards him, as if tempted to embrace him, but then notices the stiffness of his movement. Telmore was still sore. He also would likely not appreciate the contact after an ordeal like that. Especially not from someone like Cassius. The agent dampens his emotion and offers a hand to carry the case.

"Good to see you," His words ring genuine, a hint of warmth in his gruff voice. With his right hand, he adjusted an umbrella.

But for all the warmth in the words, Aaron tensed as Cassius stepped forward, his weight shifting imperceptibly back on his heels. It was a subtle change, muted, but his answering silence spoke for him. His gaze flickered momentarily over the scarred officer as if sizing him up, looking for something. After another moment, his shoulders dropped.

“Yeah,” he agreed, but he sounded more resigned than anything. His voice was hoarse as though he hadn’t spoken in some time.

Aaron moved to keep pace with Cassius, seeming not to notice the outstretched hand. He carried the case himself, the weight of it a reassurance in his grip.

Back off offers the Beast to Cassius, though he caught the not-too-subtle body language himself a moment before. Always unhelpful, even in the circumstances he could use the help. He switches the umbrella to his left hand, and walks to the door, pushing it open and holding it there to ease his way through. He sighs, the tide of bad mood washing back over him, but at least, he was glad that Telmore was alive, and...outwardly well.

"My car is parked up front. I put together some things but I need to know if it is alright with you."

He gestures towards his car, an unmarked police vehicle pulled up to the parking spaces in the waiting area, and holds the umbrella over Telmore's head. The sleet was unrelenting, and frigid. He plays with the keys, pleased with the modern convenience of using a remote to open the trunk and doors for him.

Aaron nodded and then seemed to decide this wasn’t enough of a response. The words followed belatedly, their tone formal.

“That’s fine.”

The agent followed Cassius willingly enough, but there was a faint alertness to his demeanor. He kept the officer constantly in his peripherals, watching his surroundings as if expecting someone else to appear. When prompted into the car, he gave the slightest pause, eyes flickering over the back seat. Then he seated himself, his posture perfectly correct and formal, his expression stoic. Even then he kept a peripheral view of his companion. The poisonous thought repeated over and over in his mind - that Cassius and Viktoria had been close. That Viktoria, whatever her reasons, had turned completely and without remorse. Just like Nguyen. Just like Barnes. What could he expect now? What else could he do but prepare for the worst?

Cassius starts the car without asking any questions, pulling out of the sleet with a jolt. He either did not seem to notice Aaron watching him, or did not comment on it. With the car engine starting, Aaron notices the WDSA radio starts as well, though Cassius quickly turns it down to avoid making too much noise. He glances at Aaron, and he might assume he was going to say something sympathetic, but he looks away and keeps driving. It was not far from here. Normally he would ask for a preference in music, but Aaron did not seem to be in the mood for hearing any kind of music at all.

For his part, Aaron maintained both his formal posture and a peripheral view of Cassius as he gazed out the windshield. But at every street he seemed to be watching for something, waiting perhaps for an unexpected stop or turn that might indicate their destination was somewhere other than where Cassius claimed.

They drive in the heavy sleet, slower than Cassius might like. The officer pulls his car in front of a large apartment complex after what seems like it might be an eternity. While the outside of the building looked maintained and nice, it was hardly lavish or rich, painted white with a false wood framing visible and small balconies in the front-facing apartments. The front area was gated in for safety with a box up front. There was a small community garden visible behind the gate.

Aaron seemed reassured by the building. Or at least he relaxed his vigilance a little as he stepped out onto the pavement. A thought had occurred to him: the memory of a late night hospital ward. A small red vial in Sara’s hand. And there was something Viktoria had said. Why would they need a silver from his department if they already had a gold? With some of that weight gone from his shoulders, he seemed less suspicious now than simply resigned and tired. He was poorly shaven, and it was apparent in the direct sunlight that he hadn’t been sleeping much.

Cassius decides it is better not to comment on Aaron's state. He was here to rest and recover safely, and that is what they would do. Aaron's eye catches the bone-chalk markings on the gates and walls around them. Small, almost like graffiti. Protective wards, he would recognize. The officer brought out his keys and unlocked the gate, holding it open. The gate itself also had small marks upon it. Wards against evil.

Aaron followed without comment, a slightly formal walk as though proceeding to an investigation site. At one point he hesitated and put down his briefcase as if to adjust his hold, but this was the only hitch. In another moment he picked it up and continued walking.

The apartment they stopped at was labelled 13-B on its bright red dutch door. It had no name on the plaque next to it like the other doors near it. A very plain mat sat under the door, patterned almost like a web. Tiny runes were scratched around the doorframe here as well, warding off evil once more.

Cassius unlocked the door, muttered something, and then opened it outwards. A waft of incense-like smoke curled outwards towards them. Matter-of-factly, Cassius picks up what looks like a lantern, and extinguishes it with a whuff. He then gestures inside delicately for Aaron to walk inside.

“I hope this is not too weird for you.”

Indeed it was weird. The door opened up into the combination of open kitchen and living-room. The area was dimly lit, illuminated mostly by candles of various colors and shapes, placed on metal trays that were strategically placed about the house to provide the best possible illumination. Different colored smokes drifted away from them, mixing the scents together. It was like having one’s head in a spice cabinet. The walls that were visible were covered with diagrams, maps, and small pieces of paper with what appeared to be handwritten spells with components activated on the walls, floor and ceiling.

The bookshelves sitting to either wall were teeming with various unprocessed components, liquids, and artifacts, mixed with actual, physical books and notes. They appeared to be organized, but how was unclear. Small statues from bygone eras seemed to study Aaron back mournfully. How many dead gods were represented here?

The “lantern” that Cassius had taken out and extinguished the flame within, was actually a hollowed out skull, covered with silver, and etched with sigils. Some kind of warding system, active when the flame was on.

The curtains in the far end of the house were drawn closed. Cassius looked at the candles, and made a gesture, and their flames brightened slightly. So he did have some kind of magic at his disposal, however weak it was. At the end of the dark living-room, sitting on the back of a chair with great purposefulness, the Beast stared at him from across the room. Its half-dead eyes watched him with unsettling intensity, fangs set in its upper jaws almost threatening.

Cassius looks at Aaron thoughtfully and gestures to one of the chairs at the small table that sits in the living-room. He probably uses this for meals. There are strange symbols etched into its surface as well, but these appear to be more decorative than useful.

“Do you want any tea? I have some that are helpful for exhaustion.”

Aaron would notice the large amount of fresh produce on the kitchen counter. He probably just got most of this today. Was it to prepare for Aaron’s arrival?

Aaron hadn’t moved since the door opened. Had seemed not to hear Cassius’ voice. He stood rooted outside, eyes fixed on the space where the flames had flickered. As they might rear up again, snakelike, and strike at him. When Cassius turned and gestured to a seat, the grey eyes dragged slowly upward, reluctant. But even then the strangling emotions lay buried under the surface. Aaron simply looked at him. Simply stood there. Fear warred with stubbornness and pride and shame. After a long moment he stirred and stepped over the threshold. He navigated the numerous wards with practiced ease, as though he had lived among them all his life. He recognized an uncomfortable number of them.

“Thank you. I’m fine,” he answered, and then seemed not to know what to do with himself.

Aaron adjusted his grip on the suitcase and glanced around the apartment, unsure where to put it down. Perhaps waiting for permission. Perhaps looking for an excuse to leave. Whatever his thinking, it was clear he was unused to being a guest.

[jarahamee]

Cassius watches him. He seemed lost standing there, unsure of what to do. He imagines this has to do with more than just where to place a suitcase. Considering the state that he had been found in, it was no surprise that he was feeling more than a simple mixture of emotions. He looks down at him thoughtfully, his expression serious. The slight frown suited his features more than any smiles do.

"I will show you where you will be staying, and where the bathroom is. Have you had breakfast yet?"

The slight smile returns. He was looking forward to making something for someone. Did cooking have something to do with alchemy? He rose up and walked over towards the far end of the room. There appeared to be three doors branching off this room. Cassius leads him towards the far left of the apartment, where he opens a door scratched with wards. This man was not getting his deposit back. Paper wards covered the door over the scratched runes.

Natural sunlight floods into the main area from this room. It is difficult to see what is contained within, besides windows letting in bright light.

"This will be your room."

He pauses and turns about, a little serious again.

"If you are alright with it, I will join you in animal form to make sure that nothing happens while you sleep. If you are not, I will sleep outside the door."

[MP]

Aaron looked over the space blankly, giving no judgment or feedback, negative or otherwise. The sunlight beamed over the room, friendlier and more familiar than the solemn glow off the wards. It was the only reliable thing here. He reached out subtle fingers of magic, feeling out the contours and details of the room through the light. He found nothing untoward and nodded once in agreement.

But Cassius was looking at him now. Speaking. Aaron shifted his stance a little to listen, facing the officer squarely. He still hadn't set down the suitcase, and his fingers tightened on the handle as Cassius proposed the sleeping arrangements.

Something flickered over his face then - the briefest flash of resentment, or maybe even hostility, gone in another half heartbeat. His expression seemed to close off as he listened. It was the old feeling, black and curdling as when he'd been a little boy listening to the nurses tut and hover after him. Aaron adjusted his grip on the case, his posture almost soldierly.

"Thank you," he said again, a little coolly. "That won't be necessary."

He didn't need this. Didn't want it. He wasn't helpless, wasn't about to drop down dead, and they could stop pretending like it. There was still no guarantee he could even trust the officer. And Aaron was too ashamed to contemplate the truth: that he could hardly sleep at all anyway. That he woke up time and time again in a feverish sweat, the fire twisting red, hungry shapes behind his eyelids. That he still felt the claws of it in his chest, a sickness. Something unclean. He didn't want the officer near him. Didn't want anyone near him. He pushed the poisonous thought away and spoke calmly, reasonably.

"It's only a few seconds from one room to another. You don't have to go out of your way."

[jarahamee]

When he entered the room, he noted the window was barred with steel on the outside, etched with runes, though this appeared to be normally some kind of laboratory. The curtains in this room were completely drawn open. Strange glass equipment and bottles over heating burner sets were set up, but long cool, empty and clean for the time being. There were no ward candles glowing away in here. There probably could not be due to the nature of the work that took place in this room. The table here was stained but dry and an area had been cleared off so that Aaron could have a desk to use.

On the same side of the room was a bookshelf. The language that some of the tomes were written in was foreign, some of it ancient, and a few of the books looked to not be bound with calf or sheepskin, but something thinner and more supple. Some of the books looked recent. Aaron could swear he saw a novel sitting in there, under what was likely research. The chair that had been pushed to the desk had a single electric lamp hanging above it and Aaron could see it was likely normally used for reading and relaxation, whatever that compromised for Cassius.

The wall that belonged to the door he had just entered by appeared to have some posters with formulas carefully written upon them.

A large mattress had been set up on the floor, carefully folded. The sheets appeared to be new, the blankets thick and inviting. The extra bed did not appear to be at home in this place, but this was where Cassius had chosen that it would live.

Cassius did not argue. He would sleep in the living-room then. The Beast was easy to rouse while it slept and could react much more quickly than he could in a bedroom on the other side of the apartment, and he could not afford to be resting as a human if this was his only job. And it seemed that Telmore wanted his privacy, and who could argue with that?

"... I improvised, I hope this is alright. If you need anything else for your living-space, I would be happy to get it. I can make the living room more homey as well. "

The implication seems to be that Cassius' own bedroom may be unsuitable for human habitation. Or maybe it was some kind of private place. He did not clarify, simply waited. He had been so long without human companionship in his home, he had forgotten how strange it must be to others. The darkness was likely unpleasant, even disturbing.

"If you need to escape, this window unlocks and unlatches, and the bars open, but they cannot be opened, at least not easily, from the outside."

He demonstrates the position of the locks and latches on the inside, by the lamp.

"The ward near the front door needs to be fed a piece of your hair to know to let you in without being deactivated in the future. Otherwise, I can leave it off but it has a helpful alarm if anyone tries to break in."

[MP]

Aaron watched carefully as Cassius demonstrated the escape latch. He would test it on his own time, check for flaws or weaknesses in the design. He could probably find some chalk around the place while he was at it. Add a few wards of his own, though they couldn't hope to compete with the ones already here. He examined the nearest, trying to translate and make sure it was really what the officer claimed. No, that was paranoia. Too much like his m...no. Nothing like that. It was just unnecessary. He forced himself to let it go, ignoring the niggling resolution to do it later.

"The ward near the front door needs to be fed a piece of your hair to know to let you in without being deactivated in the future," Cassius continued. "Otherwise, I can leave it off but it has a helpful alarm if anyone tries to break in."

Aaron nodded and shifted where he stood. There was a long pause as he struggled with himself. The question seemed to wrench itself from his unwilling mouth. He asked it quietly, his tone incidental.

"Does it need to be on? To take the hair?"

A chill crawled up his spine at the thought of approaching the unnatural fire, of going anywhere near the place it inhabited. What would he do if the answer was yes? He couldn't approach the fire, or even look at it. Couldn't ask Cassius to do it in his place. And asking to deactivate it would only confirm his weakness. He was trapped, held prisoner by the answer. Another twist of savage, unreasoning anger in his gut. He hated it. Hated that he couldn't do it, that he had to at all. That he was here. He didn't know what he would do.

[jarahamee]

The bone-salt-whatever else it was chalk was sitting on the table next to the glassware. If Aaron wished he could draw whatever he liked on the surfaces around him. It seemed to be abandoned, something that may or may not have been blood darkened the blunted end of it. Another unused stick of bone-salt-chalk sat next to it, waiting to be used.

Cassius looked back towards the doorway, considering. Aaron's reactions were muted but he seemed not to like the idea of the flame. And considering what had happened, who could blame him. There would be a long road to recovery here, and he wondered if Telmore would even allow people who helped mind sickness speak to him.

"No. I just need to light it sometime afterwards. I will have to do that before we leave, if you decide to leave at some point."

He imagined, after the initial rest phase, that Aaron would likely want to leave this house, and consider going somewhere else. They could certainly move safe-houses, though he would have to spend some time setting one up. He had to admit, it was probably not pleasant for a human to live in conditions like these. He never considered it anymore. All of this had become familiar, and routine to him.

"My only job is to make sure that you are safe, so if you have something to do, or somewhere to go, I will come with you. If you feel this place is unsafe, we can move or I can add additional reinforcements."

The statement was very clear, and it was very likely that this had come, word for word, from the orders he had received themselves. He stood a little straighter as he spoke, and looked just the slightest bit taller for it. The Officer's expression was solemn, but very honest, and even a little proud. This was a man who likely took every trusting gesture or word from his chosen master as a dog did a kind pat.

"If you would rather not have me, the Department head offered to have a replacement accompany you instead."

[MP]

At the mention of a replacement, Aaron only shook his head, resigned. One agent or another, it was all the same. An equal risk. Cassius at least was a known element - one he could, if not hold his own against, at least predict or avoid if things went bad. Would that be necessary? Never. That’s what he would’ve said a week ago.

He still held the officer’s gaze, evaluating the hint of pride and duty he saw in the scarred face and straightening shoulders, but his thoughts had turned inward. With one moment, one simple inaction, Nguyen had turned his lifelong trust and pride and absolute belief on its head. Now Aaron had to rebuild his understanding of the world one cautious step at a time. Who could he trust? Sara. Sara went without saying. She was safe - or was she, came the cold thought. Who was guarding her now? Who had they assigned her? No, focus. One step at a time. He was useless to her until he got his head straight. What next? Who next?

Isaac. Another given. The director had done everything he could do in the aftermath - Aaron remembered that even through the nightmarish fog of memories. He remembered the man’s expression. Remembered the charm Isaac had later pressed into his palm, a foreign shape compared to the one he had lost, but a desperately needed comfort. And beyond emotion, there was necessity. The director was trustworthy - had to be, because if the corruption went that far up the chain of command, there was nothing anyone could do. It would mean their entire department was - he shied from the idea, eyes tightening. He couldn’t even contemplate that possibility. He had no alternative but to trust.

So Isaac was safe. And Isaac had assigned him Cassius. He reached this thought in a momentary flicker of logic - had come to the same conclusion over and over since he’d learned of the arrangement - but it did nothing to ease his mind. Aaron stood there, regarding Cassius in silence. He wanted to believe the officer was trustworthy. They’d worked together on multiple cases. They’d had each other’s backs. But what did that mean anymore? Aaron’s shoulders dropped a fraction, maybe with resignation. Or maybe because he was shifting his weight to a more stable stance. He turned grey eyes to Cassius’ black, a tired, almost searching gaze. He seemed to be working up the energy to speak.

“I need to know if you mean it.” he said simply.

His voice was a low, flat note, colored with exhaustion and perhaps the faintest hint of challenge. He was too tired and - somewhere deep down - too angry to be tactful. He didn’t know what he expected. For some professional facade to drop away, perhaps. For Cassius’ face to twist into something cold and unfamiliar like Nguyen’s had done. Or would he just step aside if Viktoria came back for him? Aaron didn’t know. He simply stood ready, expressionless as he awaited the outcome. Whatever happened, he would deal with it. He had no other choice.

[jarahamee]

Cassius' stern expression melts into a sympathetic one, as if he understood now. The tense lines of his face shift, as a flurry of thoughts cross his mind. His dark eyes seemed somehow a little less hard and beastly than they had a moment before. Or perhaps he had understood the entire time, but the depth had not dawned on him. He does nothing for a moment, then, without comment sinks into a kneeling position in front of Aaron, maintaining eye contact with Aaron as he does so.

His arm supported his weight as he inclined his head downwards, breaking their eye contact finally, pausing in an almost knightly pose.

"I joined the WDSA because I believe in the cause from the bottom of my heart. I saw they were trying to do something different; they were aiming for a gentler future where supers and humans could coexist without violence, and force would only be used if absolutely necessary."

He pauses, but does not look up, keeping his focus on the ground before Aaron, while continuing to kneel.

"I was born in a society that believed in force and absolutism. At the time I thought it was the only way, but I think, in this new and gentler age, people have changed. Society has changed, for the better. I hope one day, people like me will not be needed anymore, and I would give anything to make sure that is the future that comes to pass. This means more to me than my own life."

He speaks with great solemnity. There seems to be more than he left unspoken. He hated being long-winded and he felt like he was approaching that point along with a word that started with p which he also hated. Instead he sighs and looks up at Aaron with great intensity, as if he could conduct the feeling through his thoughts.

"I will do what I must to protect you. You are my friend and comrade, and this is my duty."

He sounds both passionate and resigned at once, a mixture of pride, love, and even a touch of sadness congealing into a single thought. His dedication to duty was absolute. It was his religion, and he embraced it wholeheartedly.

[MP]

Aaron retreated a step, nonplussed as the officer sank into something like a kneel. It wasn't a threat - that would almost have been easier to handle. He listened to the heartfelt words in blank-faced silence, held by a mix of uncertainty and consternation and a bitter sense of kinship. It was the most he'd ever heard Cassius speak at once, and the scale of the officer's perspective and the terrible familiarity of his beliefs was almost paralyzing. He'd felt this way. From his own smaller, personal, infinitely more selfish perspective, he'd believed this to the very core. He still needed to.

As he stared into the scarred features, as the black eyes bored into his, something flickered over Aaron's face. Friend. Comrade. The words twisted in his chest. He didn't know what to do with this - with the sympathy and sadness and sincerity he saw and heard. The agent stood unmoving, the aggression draining from his stance, just the tiredness and uncertainty left. In the silence, he backed away from the kneeling officer. A single uneven step. Then another. His back met the wall with a soft thump. Aaron didn't look at Cassius, just stood there. His gaze dragged downward, his shoulders slumping, too heavy to maintain.

"Fuck," he said at last. It was a hoarse syllable, an almost whisper. His hand lifted to his mouth, rose to shade his eyes. "Just...fuck." And there was a hint of a break in it.

Aaron didn't cry, didn't move, didn't say anything beyond that for a long moment. His eyes were on the pattern of the floor, waiting for something to come to him. Some direction. Some sense of peace. But nothing came. Before, he would have done some work to take his mind off things. Not now. After an empty wait, he lifted his eyes to Cassius. Beneath the stoic features, he seemed lost. Almost beseeching.

"It's all a mess," he said, and all the hurt, all the anger and aimlessness and shattered trust roiled under the surface of those quiet words. He needed to get to the bottom of this. Find a square one and go from there, like any case. He just...couldn't do it yet.

[jarahamee]

Cassius rose from the floor, very slowly, almost painfully, perhaps because he was trying not to jump up and rise too quickly. Perhaps because he had some matters of weight on his mind. He finally stood with his back straight, hands at his side, watching Aaron solemnly, but not with pity. It was something more personal and less demeaning; understanding, though perhaps to Aaron, this may have simply been the rare moment where the officer looked stoic.

He had been there. The mission that went tits up and marooned them to their enemy's mercy. How many days... He did not want to dwell on it. It was not the time to focus on himself, but rather on what this man needed. Telmore was young; he had likely never experienced such pain and fear. The experiences were to Cassius, a distant and unpleasant dream, but to Telmore, they were probably a sharp, metallic sting of reality that waited, like the taste of blood, behind closed eyes. He could not sleep, could not trust, could not rest. A ball of negative emotions. Betrayal too? He was not sure. Maybe there was a reason Isaac controlled the number of agents involved in this matter.

He looks at Aaron thoughtfully, studying him, and replies simply, with a steady calm; 

"It is a mess, but it is a mess that will be sorted out. There are ways to find out who is loyal and who is untrustworthy. The cancer of this phantom institution will be removed, and justice will be dealt. Of that I am sure."

Cassius was much less sure if Viktoria would ever be well after this, or was even recoverable. It was almost as if she had become a different person from whatever they had done, but then again, she had told him, she was a living weapon after all. He touched his coat pocket thoughtfully as he considered. Had he doomed her? Was she doomed regardless? Could he have protected her better? Regret lingered on the periphery of his mind.

[MP]

Aaron said nothing. His gaze had lowered to his feet, as if the words hadn't reached him. It wasn't the how of finding these people. It was the fact that they existed at all. That they could hide in the very heart of the WDSA. The thought was a crushing weight in his chest. Almost crippling. But after a long moment Aaron forced a nod. Rubbed at his eyes as if to clear the exhaustion from them.

"Okay," he said. He still looked haggard, numb to his surroundings, but he straightened his shoulders at least.

Cassius was right. Whether the officer could be trusted or not, he was right. This could still be dealt with. This was still his case. And the only way to fix this was to get his thoughts straight. Get his head back in the game. Just...he'd work up to it. For now, he tried to crush the aimlessness and loss to some far corner of his mind. Cassius stood straight and proud, and Aaron was ashamed to do any less.

His muted panic was suppressed for the moment. The usual stoicism returning. But as Aaron glanced around for some chore or task to pursue, his expression was tinged by a more mundane kind of aimlessness. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced back to his host, a touch uncomfortably.

"Is there...can I help with anything?" he asked.

[jarahamee]

Cassius smiles, in a muted, gentle way, not his customary broad grins. He could see that the panic had sunk down for the time being at least. The change in expression softened the predatory edge he often emanated. His scars looked less fearsome and made him look more like the person he knew he was; a tired middle-aged man. He sighed deeply. Telmore looked like he needed a hug, or at least some kind of human comfort. Perhaps he could arrange to have his companion, Sara meet with him, when he could find a safe way to do so.

He looked at the pile of papers on his shelf, and pulls out some small slips of paper sitting there, along with two different small bottles. Potions perhaps? He holds them out towards Aaron.

"You can help me make more seals to protect this safehouse. You have the ability to make seals like these. I can as well but I think they would be too weak to keep out the kind of enemies we need repelled. The ones that are here I purchased from some known casters."

He looks at Aaron thoughtfully, and then places the seal-paper on the table with the two bottles. Ink bottles, he would see. He then removes several books and places it next to the papers.

"I think after that, you can tell me what kind of omelet you would like. Or I can make eggs with toast if you don't like omelets. I have some fruit, coffee...and you did not want tea, it sounds like."

He grins suddenly, as toothy as always. He did seem to enjoy treating his guests, at least as far as Aaron could see, and pulls out some quills.

[MP]

Aaron took the paper slips and bottles without complaint, though he grimaced as Cassius explained. He'd only ever worked with chalk before - a beginner's medium. Feelings of helplessness and melancholy began to creep back at the critical thought, but he forced them back into their box.

"Ability is...a strong word." he admitted. "I've got C-class magic at best. A fae could punch through." He shrugged, looking at the sloshing ink as if it might spell out the solution for him. "I can't add much."

He considered the offer of food, but only out of politeness. Along with a general listlessness, he hadn't felt much interest in food lately. When he ate, he did so dutifully, prompted by a sense of responsibility to ease outside worry and - he guessed - to not starve to death.

"Coffee is fine, thank you." Aaron thought colorlessly over the breakfast options and shrugged. "Anything you want to make is fine."

[jarahamee]

Cassius does not seem deterred by his words, and shakes his head slightly. He seems to think that Aaron was discounting himself in these matters too soon. He was not sure what sort of experience he had, but learning here, would be more than enough. The books had details that would provide him with anything he might need to strengthen them.

"These are all treated papers, and the ink is made with dragon's blood, saint's bone, blessed salt and the ashes of a sacred effigy. Ethically sourced of course." He adds carefully. Legal and ethical were two very different things, but he had to admit, he liked giving the added reassurance. Cassius offers him one of the pens.

"I think, even if you have nearly no magic, like I, these will be suitable wards. You are hardly useless. These books all have patterns you can use, but you may individualize them if you wish. It may help strengthen them."

The man rose to his feet, and glanced at Aaron's lack of enthusiasm for food he offered. Maybe it was not his favorite sort of offering. He thought for a moment, and then asked;

"I'll get the coffee started, but what's your favorite food, if you don't mind me asking?"

[MP]

For a moment it seemed as though he would simply stand there. Aaron looked at the proffered pen in silence - or maybe through it. The impressive list of ingredients rattled by without so much as a flicker of expression; his thoughts could not hold onto them. But at last he seemed to rouse himself. He took the pen and went to the nearest window, kneeling by the sill with one of the spell books. Though not a practitioner himself, he seemed to navigate the chapters and diagrams with a practiced ease. That at least was like his old self. But where Aaron had always worked with a brisk, almost marching attitude, these movements now were dragging by comparison, interspersed with pauses as if each inked line were an effort. The work went slowly, and he'd only made a few marks before Cassius spoke up again. Aaron tuned in belatedly, catching just the tail end of it.

"- your favorite food, if you don't mind me asking?"

Beneath the listlessness, a dull frustration. It didn't matter - couldn't they see that? He didn't care. Didn't want to speak. And for a moment, he almost gave in to the thought. It would have been so much easier to ignore the question. He could pretend he hadn't heard. Then with a mental sigh, Aaron forced his thoughts to order. Pushed out the words.

"Fruit, I guess."

The shrug didn't make it to his shoulders, but it was evident in his voice. Aaron went back to the ink and paper, letting his thoughts go blank again in the busywork.