A look into the past (2019 thread (Ache and Cad origin story))

[Acheron]

One july evening in 2019, around midnight

A clear moonless night

@Cadmus

In the end, it wasn’t hard tracking down this guy who had wronged Lucy. He already knew he volunteered at the EFA. And with what probably wasn’t a lot of digging, it soon became clear that between the two of them, they had a very similar way of making an income. It became easy to find him from there. He went by Cadmus now, he found out. That was a different name than what Lucy had known him by. His real name. Which Acheron also knew, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why he had been on the run either. The two had more than a profession in common. The only real difference was that Cadmus seemed to fashion himself as a reasonable person, whereas Acheron didn’t keep up any pretenses. That was a weakness on Cadmus’ part. One that Acheron was more than willing to exploit – Cadmus was just as despicable as Acheron, after all, if not more for trying to pretend to be anything else. Which was why he deserved it.

That left only the issue of how to get in touch with this imposter. He had his business, though. Which was how Acheron ended up sending his message, through an anonymous middleman on the black market. That left only the one issue of actually spelling out the letter. Now, having spent a good portion of his teen years in what could only be described as hell and most of his childhood in Udril, it hadn’t left him with a lot of time to figure out the written Ilomarian language. He spoke it well enough. The message, he ended up writing to the best of his abilities. A simple “I know what you did” then Cadmus real name, along with printouts of evidence. Did he tell Lucy had told him? He didn't want to put her in danger, but he still added that she sended her regards. Then, he had signed ‘Acheron’ along with a time and place. If there were any misspellings, Acheron couldn’t care less. As long as the message came across.

So, as he approached the dingy Erast alley that July night around midnight– a few minutes late, as he found people tended to be more intimidated by that – he wondered if the man would even show up at all. There was, of course, the risk that he had alerted his fellow members and that Acheron was walking right into an ambush. That was why his heart was pounding in his chest and that his fist was tight around the dagger in his pocket. But soon, he felt the presence of another Nachon. And only one. His anxiety calmed a little as he entered the alley, revealing a young man much like Acheron. Well, not entirely, said young man was certainly better dressed than Acheron, which wasn’t a hard task to pull off. Lucy often commented on the fact that Acheron looked like a homeless man. It wasn’t far from the truth.

“So, you’re Cadmus,” he spoke, hands still buried in his pockets as he approached. “Heard so much about you. Nice to finally meet.”

[Cadmus]

What really freaked Cadmus out about the letter–something he would later come to think of as nothing more than a peculiar coincidence, but nevertheless made his skin crawl whenever he would think back on it–was the date. July 13th. Albert had handed him his mail that morning when he had passed by the black market; it was an unnecessarily complicated system; getting in contact with the man who fashioned himself The Healer of Erast–a title he himself had had nothing to do with–or so he had thought. For the past year he had felt safe, for it had been a year; since that night he hardly remembered–something he might say for most nights spent in Ilomar before the EFA. If Natalie had been a seraph, what then did that make this creature?

No one had seen him open the envelope; thankfully; or they would have seen the panic he would not have been able to explain away. I know what you did. He read, standing in some back alley, after having made sure he was alone. But it was the following letters that posed the real threat; 25 of them, 3 names, his. For almost 6 years he had been able to outrun it; outrun the sins that clung to it; polluted it. And here it was, written awkwardly in a blackmailer’s disguised hand, accompanied by printed words he knew so well; articles confirming his guilt. Startled, he looked up. How? And who? But he knew who; the only person who knew his whereabouts and wouldn’t turn him in to the Godias sent her regards. But she had told someone.

Acheron, this demon had signed its name; how very fitting. It felt almost religious, even to someone like Cadmus, who had never been superstitious. Indeed he did wonder, for just a second, if this Acheron was mythical being sent to punish him. A year! By the date! The terror was outweighed by the beautiful irony and he found himself shaking, not from fear, but from laughter. A silent, convulsing laugh that made him dizzy; and he had to support himself on a nearby wall to get a grip on himself again. His heart was racing, but he was smiling when he folded and pocketed the letter. Was there any point trying to go around the day as usual when he was going to die tonight?

-

“Wer,” The glowing hands of his watch showed midnight, “wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen?” He had been waiting, walking around aimlessly, trying to think for most of the day, but it was only now that the restlessness really caught up on him. It had to be the worst part–the waiting. “und gesetzt selbst, es nähme einer mich plötzlich ans Herz:” His eyes were closed, the poem soft on his lips. "Ich verginge von seinem stärkeren Dasein.” If–when–someone came, he would be able to feel them. “Denn das Schöne ist nichts als des Schrecklichen Anfang,” he had to remember Lucy; he was doing this for her. It had been a promise, and it still held. He would have done anything for her, had done everything, “den wir noch grade ertragen,” someone was approaching him. It was the feeling, rather than the soft sound of steps. Only–oh, that made sense, a nachon of course. “und wir bewundern es so,” the words were barely a whisper, “weil es gelassen verschmäht,” with a calm smile he opened his eyes. This Acheron, the nachon, who was greeting him, was barely older than he. “uns zu zerstören." This stranger, whether he was death, a demon or something as common as a blackmailer, made a rather pathetic appearance. Sure, he might still be dangerous, but really? Perhaps it was mockery, not proper punishment, the universe was sending him. His reply was cool, wary, it was not exactly a situation he was used to; "Acheron, I assume? I regret I cannot say the same.”

The quote is from Die erste Elegie by Rilke, if you want to find a translation<3

[Acheron]

For a moment as Acheron had entered the alley, it had sounded like the man, Cadmus, had been whispering something foreign to himself. And this Cadmus was nothing like Acheron had imagined he would be. No, he wasn’t cowering in fear or showing even the slightest hint of anger at the situation he had been put in. Instead, he first smiled calmly, then replied with a detached coldness, as if he was above this situation. Acheron let out a huff of air, brows furrowing together as he sized him up. If he hadn’t already decided that he disliked Cadmus, he certainly did now. This person who Acheron knew to be a criminal, he looked entirely too unbothered.

As Acheron tried to extend his powers and infiltrate the mind of the other to pick out whatever emotion he had to be feeling in there somewhere, but he was met only with a solid wall keeping him out. Of course, before even entering this alley he had known that the man was a nachon. It was an annoyance nonetheless. His  powers were like an extension of his senses. Always a way to double check whether there was danger afoot or if someone had harmful intentions. And this man, in this dark alley, who Acheron knew was as capable of violent actions  as he was, it made him feel uneasy that he couldn’t get a proper read on his next move. It felt unsafe. But Acheron was armed, he reminded himself and he had the upper hand in this situation. He was the blackmailer and Cadmus his victim. Though he was aware by now that he didn’t look much of a threat. Too young, too thin, too beaten down by life to appear like he had much fight left in him at all. But looks could be deceiving. Acheron was a murderer. A demon, more than capable to get his way. He didn’t know if the same could be said for the other as well. But he sure as hell was going to be the one coming out on top.

Reaching into his pocket, Acheron got out a carton of cigarettes. A habit he had picked back up soon after he had left Jonathan’s apartment for good. He took his sweet time,  fishing one up and lighting it before once again turning his attention to Cadmus. “Do you smoke, Cadmus?” He then asked, before adding mockingly. “Or, oh. Sorry. It is Cadmus that you go by nowadays, right?” He scoffed, taking a puff of the cigarette. “Doesn’t that get confusing? Keeping track of all those names?”

Did he introduce himself? He had never blackmailed someone before and honestly, he didn’t know. What was there to introduce, even? He was here to get a way to make ends meet, not to make friends. Cadmus didn’t need to know more than what name to call him by. Still, he spoke once more. “Lucy says hi. Or well, she doesn’t. Not much of a fan these days, I’d say. She hates you, actually.”

[Cadmus]

Cadmus shook his head once declining what might have been an offer for a cigarette. Of course it was a lie, but he wanted neither to offer up any more information about himself than what this Acheron already seemed to know, nor did he trust the stranger enough to accept anything from him. He had already felt how the other nachon had tried, and failed, to use his powers on him; he had in turn, done the same, to much the same avail. Once again he was grateful for the years with Aurelius and the practice that allowed his thought, his fears and secrets to remain that; secrets. It was this awareness he brought with him through life; that made him try to respect the intimacy of the lives that crossed his; but it wasn’t one that prevented him from taking certain precautions: like now, here, who wouldn’t want to know why they had been called upon like this? To gain just a fragment of knowledge that might level the playing field; to learn what kind of game he was supposed to play. How much did Acheron know about him?

Cadmus, he had said when greeting him; and it was only when he used this name again that it registered. So, this was a man (if you could even call him that) not a demon. Would a demon have had the courtesy not to speak that other name? After the letter, he had been prepared for it; and was relieved now that its sound would keep its sacredness. Sure, the papers had stained it; but the boy to whom it had belonged had died that day too, and Cadmus wasn’t sure how well he could be resurrected. Thus, it amused rather than angered him, when Acheron went on to mock him, there was no shame in letting the dead rest. Besides, there was no way anyone would have named a child Acheron. He cocked his head; letting the stranger talk, and smoke. It wasn’t too bad. The urge to light one himself. He felt calmer now that the waiting was over.

“Cadmus is fine.” He said crossing his arms. What did the stranger want? Money? It didn’t look like he had a whole lot of those; but that was so unoriginal; and really, if that was the case, he should have found himself a better target. Power? Sure, Cad could probably play along, but it felt silly, pretending to be scared of this beaten up, malnourished creature, so far from the divine intervention he had spent the day imagining. He had had a year of rest; if he had to run again, so be it. It was more than he deserved anyway.

Then, Lucy was mentioned and Acheron had his undivided attention. He hadn’t seen the child in almost two years, and then, that last meeting had not gone well. But he had made a promise. Had tried to make her give one as well; she could contact him, if she ever needed it; even if she hadn’t wanted it then. It wasn’t hard to understand why she didn’t want to see him, but she had no one else. How were you supposed to abandon a child? He hadn’t abandoned her. She had disappeared. Then he had tracked her down again, in no position to help her, or to get her to change her mind; and she had disappeared again. This Acheron; that wasn’t how he had told her to find him; Acheron didn’t have to tell him that this was not Lucy trying to reach out to him for reconciliation. So, she still hated him. Great, at least they had that in common. But this man? He knew Lucy, presumably. And– “She’s alive?”

[Acheron]

An exhale, smoke rising to the sky as Acheron watched Cadmus closely. His brows furrowed at his apparent apathy, as if the letter, the dark alley and the presence of a blackmailer was barely a concern to him and hardly a surprise. As if he wasn’t being threatened here – or at least, that he did not care enough to put up a fight against it. It was off-putting, to say the least. Was this calm acceptance of his fate or was he really that confident he could get out of this? He should be more desperate, or at the very least afraid. Yet, he wasn’t. Acheron suddenly wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, this hadn’t been what he had expected. But it was certainly pissing him off. What kind of person could be so nonchalant about a situation like this? That was until the mention of Lucy. That was the only thing that truly seemed to capture the other man's attention, as if any of the other things did not matter. He tilted his head, studying the expression on Cadmus’ face. Had he expected Cadmus to care about Lucy still? At least not more he had expected he would care for his own safety and yet, he had only one question for Acheron, and that was whether she was alive.

Acheron thought of her as she had been then two months back, drenched at his doorstep. Desperate enough to take up the offer for housing he had given her in an alley much like this. At least he hadn’t had any nefarious intentions. He had simply been in a situation much too similar to her once and knew all too well how dangerous the streets and the strangers could be. Last he had seen her was that morning before he had headed out. So she was alive, yes, unlike so many other teens in her position. And staying with him on and off as long as she could stand his company. She sometimes disappeared for a couple of days. He didn’t blame her for that, he wouldn’t stick around either if he hadn’t been him. It was a question of time before she found another place. But He wasn’t entirely sure what to make about the relationship between Cadmus and Lucy. She didn’t want anything to do with this man. Yet, from where Acheron was standing, it seemed that all Cadmus cared about was Lucy. So how did Acheron respond? It was certainly an emotion to exploit as Cadmus seemed entirely unconcerned for his own wellbeing. If this was what it took to get what he wanted from this encounter, so be it.

Acheron once more lifted the cigarette to his mouth. An inhale, smoke in. A pause. An exhale, smoke out. Then, finally, after a moment of stillness, Acheron nodded in confirmation. “If that is all you give a shit about. Yes.” He kept his eyes fixed on the other man, tapping the cigarette. Ash fell to the ground. “She is. I look out for her.”

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know this man, didn’t know if this new information would prompt him to look for the very girl Acheron had stupidly taken upon himself to keep safe. Perhaps this had really been a horrible way to do that. But really, perhaps this would ensure that Cadmus didn’t simply turn and run, if he was that careless about his own livelihood. Now he knew. That Lucy was protected and as safe as she could be under the circumstances. And if he truly did care to know about her,  he’d have to do as Acheron says. That is, if the interest really came from a place of genuine care. He still didn’t know what to entirely make of this person.

“You seem very,” Acheron said, gesturing with his hand as he searched for the right word. “Unconcerned, for why you’re here.” He tilted his head again, brows furrowing together. 
“I wonder why. I can ruin your life. And I will, if you give me reason to.”

[Cadmus]

It had been a mistake, Cadmus knew, to reveal how big of a weak spot Lucy was. He was sure that he had just handed Acheron a winning hand. Uncomfortable, both with this realisation and with the eyes scrutinising him, he shifted. He had lost his composure, and now he didn’t bother regaining it. Instead he frowned, anxiously watching the cigarette smoke as if that might provide him with an answer. Cadmus had tried not to think too hard about what Lucy sending her regards had meant; it was possible that it was a threat. This man; would he hurt her? Had he already done so? Lone children were easy prey…

The night air was a cool caress against the nape of his neck; a silent warning that made it hard to breathe. Contained by the wind was the latent promise; of ghostly fingers wrapping themselves around tightly. Somewhere, a memory he knew not to be his own stirred. The chill spread through his shoulders, to the crossed arms he now tightened, to the curled up tips of his fingers. A realisation that crept down his spine, past a knot tied up neatly with indifference, where a Lucy sized lump had come undone.

Acheron nodded, Lucy lived. Something, somewhere, loosened with this relief, falling with the ash from Acheron’s cigarette. Cadmus sighed, reposed. It was not a thing it would make sense to lie about; it was obvious to them both that her death would have brought greater distress; and the way Acheron spoke about her; this was not about her; could she really be okay? Or as okay as it was possible for someone like them? I look out for her. What did that mean? What safety could this man possibly provide? All of this puzzled him; why bring her up? Why look for him? What did Acheron want? Yet he had found some demeanour of calmness, and he managed to keep it. For now, he would have to trust that the girl was safe.

This time it was Acheron who seemed to make a mistake; revealing too much maybe. Calling out the way Cad had taken the meeting so far. Posing a threat.

“Does it bother you?” Cadmus asked with faux concern and a raised eyebrow. Uncrossing his arms, he pocketed one and ran the other through his hair. “If you read any of the articles before sending them to me, you should be aware that I am perfectly capable of ruining my own life, thank you.” He sighed with an apologetical shake of his head and a smile. “But, it is something I prefer to do in my own time.” He paused for a moment, when he spoke again it was in a serious tone that betrayed the hour. “Just tell me what it is you want. I’m not interested in you fucking over my life, okay?”

[Acheron]

There was a moment before Acheron had spoken where Cadmus had seemed truly vulnerable. From the way he frowned anxiously at the air, to the way he shifted nervously. All because of Lucy. Did the man feel guilty? Responsible? He should be. But the moment was gone as soon as the topic had been changed and he had confirmed that Lucy was still alive. Once again, he did not seem the least bit affected by the threat put before him. Does it bother you, he asked. Well, yes, it did. Cadmus was the one who should be bothered, if anything. He asked if Acheron had read any of the articles before sending them, and, well. He had given it a fair try, but… Acheron’s brows furrowed in anger. At least the man admitted that he was plenty capable of fucking up his life.

“Bold tone there, pal,” Acheron remarked warningly, raising a brow. “Consider who you’re talking to.”

There had been a pause, and a sudden gravity of his tone. So it seemed this man still took the threats seriously, which at least meant that he couldn’t be entirely out of his mind. Just tell me what it is you want. Well, money, mostly. But it struck him then that a man like Cadmus might be useful in more than one regard. One, his reputation was definitely better than Acheron’s, who wasn’t exactly known for being sociable or even slightly likable. Two, he was a member of the EFA, which not only was a resource in itself, despite how much Acheron resented them, but it also meant that Cadmus probably had access to a wider network that Acheron did not. Cadmus, it seemed, had much more to offer than just an easier means to pay his rent. Acheron smiled at that, thinking to himself that he was actually quite clever sometimes.

“But, I’m sure we can figure out a way for you life to remain un-fucked.” He took one last drag of the cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and stomping it out. “Of course, there’s the obvious. 6.000꩒. Cash. Every month.” As he spoke, he immediately realized he should’ve demanded a higher sum to have any money left after paying his rent – dammit. He’d figure something out. He pocketed his hands. “Then there’s everything else that you can't really predict, you know? You wouldn’t mind being my errand boy, would you? You know how it is.” There was humor in his tone, despite the lack of choice he actually presented to the other man.

“Basically,” he shifted  as his gaze locked with the other man. “You do as I tell you to. Then I’ll be quiet as a mouse about what a horrible person you are, so you can live whatever lie you want in peace. Any questions?”

[Cadmus]

A sudden gust of wind made him shiver. He was reminded of the darkness that surrounded them; standing as they were in the impenetrable night, unreached by the flickering light of the yellow lamps, which he knew to be somewhere on the adjoined streets, just out of view, existing only as ghostly reminders of civilization. There was something so depressing about Erast, a loneliness he supposed, in the rundown buildings, the uncollected bags of trash and walls muralised with paint and urine. It made him feel small, insignificant, and hopeless. All of which was mirrored by Acheron’s threat. Consider who he was talking to? And who was that? Someone who was in dire need of money. 6.000꩒. Cash. Every month. Shocked. Cadmus looked up; away from the light. That was… A lot of money. He barely made that much; it wasn’t about the money. Well, it hadn’t been. He had had a duty, and oh, he might as well help with rent. And having your own money to spend on things didn’t hurt either. But he would never ask someone for something they couldn’t give. Would never turn someone down because of money. Now? ”Alright,” he gave a slow nod. It could have been worse, couldn’t it? Somehow, he would have to figure it out, although he didn’t like it.

Then again, how he liked it, had very little to do with anything. Then there’s everything else that you can't really predict, you know? You wouldn’t mind being my errand boy, would you? You know how it is. What had he gotten himself into? He closed his eyes, took a breath, then another, steadying himself. Trying to shake off a sudden wave of nausea. This guy knew Lucy, took care of her, and he was probably armed. He was a Nachon. Even if he could fight back, it would be pointless. Even if he somehow managed to find a gun and learn how to shoot it, Lucy might actually care about the guy and he didn’t want to be responsible for another death that upset her. It wasn’t just about him. Basically, Acheron continued, and Cadmus met his eyes, repressing the odd sense of déjà vu in the following words. Tuning out the feeling of panicky sickness, with emptiness. ”I can’t imagine I have much of a say in this.” He shook his head. ”Just to clarify? This isn’t about me. Isn’t about my past. I don’t care who you tell.” A lie. ”But you do. If you want money, I need customers. The truth would be bad for business.” He paused. Considering. ”However, you do have something I want. Keep her safe, and we have a deal.”

[Acheron]

A gust of wind and Acheron tried not to feel too uneasy at the memories that stirred just at the edge of his consciousness. Of nights on a cold, windy balcony, of choking, of the blood on his hands. A time that was long-gone now and a man Acheron would much rather forget. But things were different now.  He had reclaimed his control. Here, tonight, in this dark alley, Acheron called the shots. If there were two kinds of people in this world, well, then he’d rather be the one doing the hurt rather than the hurting. So what if he didn’t - couldn’t? – believe in safety anymore? He didn’t need to trust to be the one with the power.

The last shreds of humor left Acheron’s face as he kept his gaze pointed at Cadmus, who was considering the his demands. He seemed apprehensive, which he supposed he couldn't fault him for. Then, Cadmus agreed with a slow nod, a moment later he finally met his gaze. His brows furrowed at what he said about not caring who Acheron told. It annoyed him then that Cadmus mind was impenetrable, he couldn’t call him on his bluff. Acheron wasn’t sure which one was the truth: Cadmus was a liar or that Cadmus truly cared so little for his own well-being. Bad self-preservation skills or an imposter through-and-through? Acheron leaned towards the latter. Then he grit his teeth together in anger at what Cadmus said next. Undermining him like that, Acheron ought to put him in his place, but the man was right. Which just made him hate him more.

Once again, it came back to Lucy. The one and only thing it seemed this guy even gave half a shit about. Keep her safe. Well, he was certainly trying. It wasn’t an easy feat when he was struggling to even keep himself above the water and not drown in the misery of it all. But he did what he could. It was probably to Lucy’s great misfortune that their paths should meet – Acheron was no caretaker. He wasn’t meant to be around people, being in Lucy’s life meant Lucy’s danger. Had Acheron been a good person, he’d leave as soon as she was back on her feet. But Acheron also wasn’t a good person and if sticking around meant Cadmus doing his bidding, then… Well, then he’d be Lucy’s caretaker. Poor thing. He’d try not to hurt her, though. He nodded.

“Deal.” He kept his eyes pointed sharply at Cadmus, warningly. “But just so we’re clear. Fuck up and I will still destroy your pathertic life. Got it?”

[Cadmus]

Deal. It was a warning, Acheron did not have to add a verbal one too to be understood, but he did. Cadmus nodded, oh he got it, and as he fished out the carton of cigarettes he kept in his trouser pocket and lit one, he almost managed to conceal a smile too inappropriately smug for one in a situation such as his own. This had turned out a great deal better than he could have hoped. Was he fucked? Most definitely, but for the first time in years he was in a position to honour the promise he had made to Aurelius.

It had been almost ceremonious. The old man had been right; theirs was a town flowing over with hate. Every news article depicting new atrocities, every whisper spreading from lips to lips with a wildfire’s ferocity had been leading to it. Then why, he would later wonder with what felt like betrayal, had they let it happen?
They were not the only ones, those memories of passionate faces, of the girl’s panic, of a distant inferno devouring the shattered pieces of his second life, that had burned into him and made him long so desperately for oblivion. Tarron take him, he had had reasons enough for that already; nor would that day be the end of it. But they were the memories coming to mind as he drew on his cigarette.

Cadmus might owe them remembrance, but how could he deny anyone help to forget? Wondering what Acheron did for a living, blackmailing could not be his main profession, he studied the person on whom he now had to trust Lucy’s wellbeing. His new acquaintance was young; probably only a year or so older than Cad. It was hard to be sure. Erast aged you; stress and poor living conditions, he had discovered, did that to you. Still, the awkward uncertainty with which Acheron was acting, his youthful inexperience told Cad he was probably younger than he looked. He was also small; scrawny even; whatever he did was hardly enough to feed him; and he was supposed to take care of Lucy? The smoke was quick to disappear into the dark as he exhaled. Perhaps this was less blackmailing than charity. Despite the aggressiveness or perhaps because of it, there was something almost pathetic about the other; like a half-drowned kitten left behind in some back alley. It was pitiful.

Having thus convinced himself of his own agency, of his control over this situation; he spoke again: “When, then, can I expect to see you again?” Assuming of course, that you are done threatening me for tonight. He went for what he hoped was an easygoing smile and took another drag. Was it his own reasoning or the nicotine that made him feel this calm? He couldn’t be sure, and did it really matter? Tonight was not, after all, the end of the world.

[Acheron]

Acheron’s eyes trailed Cadmus’ hands as he reached for something in his pockets. His brows furrowed as the other man lit up a cigarette, as if he hadn’t denied being a smoker at the start of their little meeting. A liar through and through it seemed. He looked real smug about it too. This lamented it, then, Cadmus was not to be trusted. Whether this was a small transgression or not, it still showed Cadmus was willing to lie straight to his face. That was something to work on, then. Something in the back of his mind reminded him of something Jonathan had said once, about respect. He ignored it, along with the chill down his spine. Convinced himself it was simply the coldness of the wind that had made him shiver, as he pulled the thin denim jacket closer around himself.

He was still glaring daggers at Cadmus when he asked his question, not caring for the easygoing smile on the man’s lips. His calm demeanor. Probably another lie. The man ought to be afraid, he didn’t know what Acheron could be capable of. Was capable of. Cadmus would know, one day, as soon as Acheron had found his footing in this. He couldn’t help it, that vague feeling of embarrassment, as if tonight hadn’t gone according to his wishes. Well, it actually hadn’t. Somehow, Cadmus had switched the situation to his favor. It was too late to back out of the deal now. Acheron grit his teeth, feeling very much like he had been on the losing side of this meeting

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snarled, then looked away, the response way more aggressive than what had probably been warranted. He had agreed to this deal. He let out a huff of air, looking away towards the entry of the alley as he regained what little remained of his composure. To hell with it. He met Cadmus’ gaze again. “I’ll contact you. At the end of the month, have my money by then.”

He stopped himself, just shy of adding a ominous ‘or else’, deciding it to be too cliché. What could he even do that this man would care for, save for hurting Lucy? Which he would never do. The man, as stated, didn’t care for his reputation, nor was it in Acheron’s interest to do so if he wanted his money. He felt ridiculous, then, threatening this man who towered over him who had bested him tonight. Not next time, he told himself. Next time Acheron would win. And with that he straightened his back, looking Cadmus over one last time. "You may leave," he then added, or more so, commanded. It wasn't so much the wish to stay longer in this alley, but more so being unwilling of turning his back on the liar that he did not trust one bit.

[Cadmus]

The look Acheron sent him should have reminded him of the danger of the situation; but since reality had decided to clash so hard with his expectations, almost mockingly so, he could not really find it in himself to feel actually threatened by his latest acquaintance. Instead, he allowed himself the rush of adrenaline and the joy it brought him. Despite a year of being reasonable, lying low, practicing Aurelius’ words, and sound self preservation, it had not cured him of youthful stupidity. Danger, he found, with a hard drag on the cigarette, had a certain appeal. Even when it came disguised as a sad stereotype of a Nachon criminal; the sort you either warned your children against or whose patheticness you could use to promote a ‘Nachons are people, and this one has been failed by the system’ view. Either way, it was a mockery of a mirror, and Cad had decided that he would not let it scare him. So what if his way of reacting was only aggravating the other? He was sure he would manage. He always had.

Cigarette smoke and Acheron’s radiant displeasure mingled in the night air, like a surge of accomplishment. He was so used to losing he had almost forgotten how sweet victory felt; sure, he had no control of the situation, but he could almost convince himself of the opposite. “Don’t look at me like that,” Acheron snarled, so Cad took his eyes off him, and turned instead to the starless night. Impulsive, unpredictable, probably a threat. But; they had a deal, and even if he didn’t seem like a man of his words, Cad believed he was desperate enough to keep it. Acheron needed the money; and that made him dependent on Cad. Not the other way around. This too was rather pleasing, but he restrained himself when he looked back down, meeting the other’s eyes. The end of the month? The deadline was close enough to warrant a slight frown; but sure, that would have to do.

He also knew that just as good as he felt, Ache feelt equally bad; this meeting was drawing to a close. Probably for the best; ”You may leave,” the commando sounded; and although it still felt rather silly to oblige, Cadmus nodded, deciding not to stretch his luck any further; “Until next time.”

[Sponsoreret inhold]