001 - At the crossroads one more time

[canislaconis]

[When he wakes, he's still only half-aware. Sprawled on the bed, one arm strewn over the empty mattress at his side, his first thought is that Salem had gotten up, for some reason. Blearily, he peeked open an eye to see if she was still in the room. And, for a moment, the only hint that something was off was the vague sense of uneasiness in his stomach. But it nagged enough for him to keep staring, trying to piece together what was off.

Slowly, the wrongness began to take shape. The empty bed was cold. The covers were undisturbed. The furniture, impersonal and empty, didn't make up the familiar sillouhettes that made up their quarters in their cramped apartment. And, as he propped himself up, a low growl starting in his throat, even the smell was wrong.

She wasn't here.

Here wasn't here. Or, at least, it wasn't where it should be.

He doesn't speak to the grimmoire. It doesn't even occur to him that there would be one to speak to. In seconds, he's up on his feet and stalking into the halls, his bare feet practically silent against the floor. With his teeth bared--fangs showing--and no sunglasses to hide his pale, wolfish eyes, there's no question that he is neither human nor remotely happy.

Hello, Accord]

Comments

[heresyandlace]

That's not how this works.

[as if saying it as calmly and casually as he can will do anything but piss this guy off even more.

but, he apparently really is expecting it to work on some level, because he innocently raises his hands even with his shoulders, fingers spread. See? Unarmed. Harmless.]

Let me go, and I'll answer anything you'd like.

[canislaconis]

[for a long moment, Tiered was silent. His pale eyes were fixed on Tek's--and if they weren't exactly quizzical, there was definitely something going on as he weighted this proposal.

Finally, fingers tightening just slightly, he frowned at the other man]

Why were you following me?

[Because he might be unarmed...but stalking wasn't exactly innocent behavior]

[heresyandlace]

You still have me shoved up against a wall.

[he sighs a little, as much as he can manage with a hand around his throat]

I'll give you a freebie, though. ...You're in my home, and I was curious as to who you were. That's all.

[canislaconis]

Your home?

[...There's the smallest flash of defensive anger at the words "my home," and for the few fractions of a second it takes Tek to keep talking, there's a very real danger of Tiered hurting him. But the rest of the sentence makes no sense. None at all.

By the time he finishes, Tiered's eyes are narrowed, but it's with confusion as much as anything else]

Wouldn't you know who I am if....it is? [what kind of kidnapper takes someone he doesn't know?

....With time, he might also ask himself what kind of kidnapper takes undrugged, fully-adult werewolves and puts them in a strange bedroom with an unlocked door, but he hasn't actually processed things that far, yet]

[heresyandlace]

[and this would be one reason that he does keep talking. Because you really can't kill someone after a statement like that without wanting an explanation first, right?]

You would think so, wouldn't you? [ha, he laughs. like it's all a joke.]

Now, if you'll kindly let go of my throat, I'd be happy to tell you what I do know. ...That's a fair trade, right?

[canislaconis]

[it sounds like an answer. Tek's tone makes it seem like it should be an answer. But Tired finds himself frowning at the word choice.

You would think so.

So. Did that mean he did know? Or he didn't know? Or that he thought Tired thought he knew him?

It takes him a minute of puzzling to actually realize he still has the other man by the throat. Not that he's feeling particularly trusting (Tek didn't really give off the most helpful of vibes), but he hasn't actually tried to attack him, either.

Slowly...ever so slowly... Tiered released his grip on the other man and took a single step back. It wasn't really enough to give Tek a lot of breathing room...but at least there weren't fingers constricting his windpipe anymore.]

[heresyandlace]

[like a good boy--or, at least a very careful one--he waits until the other man moves that step back and takes a breath, before he himself relaxes and lowers his hands. Nice and slow, no sudden moves.

And, to his credit, he doesn't seem to mind that they're still pretty close. He even moves his attention to his own shirt, running a hand over to smooth the wrinkles. It's expensive fabric, after all.]

Much better. ...Now, to answer a couple of questions that I'm sure are just eating you up-- yes, this is my tower. And no, I'm not the one who brought you here.