For Quinn, Twitch would brave the crowd tonight. Hell, this bash was bigger than when DS showed up the first time. Her polite "excuse me"s and "behind you"s hardly made an impact as she wiggled through the crowd of stragglers that lined the outer edge of the dance floor.

Deep inhale, slow exhale. Her mantra worked wonders under stress.

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The man walked to the bar with a look of absolute tiredness. His eyes were heavy, face wearied, the lines crossing his forehead deep and furrowed. He leant against the oak and for a moment simply rested; then, with what looked like immense effort, opened his mouth to speak.

"Water, please."

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The pain is never immediate. It's the shock that comes first. The body's reaction to "shit, this isn't right". Then the brain kicks in with the acknowledgment of what just happened. An invasion of its host by a foreign object, cold and sharp and deadly. The tearing of skin and muscle, the destruction of blood vessels and nerves. And then the pain. Then that's when things get interesting.

With pain comes two things. One can either wallow in it and give in, or fight and survive. Oberon was not the type to bow down to his own demise. No...he vowed to never let himself die without a fight.

But to his dismay, that was what was happening. He was dying...with a treacherous knife in his gut.

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Much pondering can be done over a pint.

A tankard sloshed lazily onto the grimy plank of solid wood used as a poor excuse of a tavern bar. Oberon grumbled the notion under his breath as he all but threw his coin as payment and went about swallowing the bitter brew. His pondering this day had nothing to do with his sordid life, and all to do about the emptying of the grog and next time it should be filled, wherein he could drown out the sordidness he wished to ignore.

There were plenty of bodies filling the would-be vacant spaces of the village pub. He'd stopped here only briefly on his journeys to fill the pit of his gut with food and beer. He'd then sleep in an alleyway, or a hovel of trees...whatever was within stumbling distance.

He shuffled his way through the crowd to the nearest table, grabbing the arm of a young serving girl on his way. He shook her in his hold to get her attention and ordered a plate of the daily special, giving no mind to what it might be. Quite blatantly offended, she marched off in a huff to do as he demanded.

Oberon was not a man of politeness, and "asking" was not notable in his etiquette.


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Now that the seemingly typical Summer Hiatus of Icarus Down is over, I wanted to start out with something fresh and totally plot unrelated because Lawrie is taking his sweet sweet time writing anything *narrows eyes pointedly in his general direction*. I know I failed miserably on the Golden Hind story (last entry), but I -swear- it will eventually get finished. I've sat here for the past however many hours and contemplated which characters to touch base with and the only ones I could come up with are Faye and her boyfriend Drake.

These two are little-known in this world, and in all honesty, haven't been a huge focal point for various reasons. We've seen Faye in action, but not much with Drake other than Hyde getting under his skin (haha, I made a pun). So, I figured it only fair that I give a little insight on these two. There probably won't be much else about them in-depth. Futhermore...enjoy the story.




"I'm home!"

Faye laughed. Drake had a dry sense of humor, but she found it endearing. They weren't home. In fact, they were miles from it, staying at his parent's vacation house for a week. It was the first time they'd shared a place together all alone in the---how many years now?---they'd been dating.

"What'd you bring me?"

"Oh, nothing much," Drake approached the bench swing she was curled up on that sat in the sun-room patio. He had a cloth bag bunched up in his hands.

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Rheit had been sitting in the house alone, vegetating in front of the television when the door from the garage flung open. Giggling followed the slamming door along with the rustling of bags and the click of heels on hardwood floor. From the obvious sounds of it, Delena and Mani were home. The two had been spending a lot of time together since Mani had arrived for a visit. She was only staying for a few more days before she had to leave for a tour in Europe. She had decided to continue her career as a concert violinist after being offered a hefty sum by a very wealthy fan. It had been hard to turn away. No one could blame her either.

The laughter continued into the living room until the girls spotted Rheit, who was in the middle of flipping through channels. Delena stood behind him and bent down to kiss the top of his head.

"How was your day sweetie?"

He just shrugged, then turned to look at the two girls. "Boring."

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Hyde and Nakoa spent many nights in his basement level apartment sitting around a bowl of popcorn with the television on. Though, lately they rarely paid attention to what flashed about on the screen. It became more of a background accompaniment to their discussions.

Nakoa had had no idea how well versed Hyde was in natural, and biblical history. He knew something about every religion, ancient societies and culture, various languages, geography, mythology---he was an untapped fountain of knowledge and an amazing storyteller. And the only thing he could ever contribute on this knowledge to was:

"I liked school."

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The long awaited (eh...maybe?) character bios are here! This, like most anything in ID-world is a constant Work In Progress. Any questions, comments, or corrections, please leave in the designated area on this post.

Sincerely,

Icarus Down Writing Staff



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(First of all, I'd like to welcome everyone to post #50. It's a very exciting day...I guess. It's a milestone really. We all know this isn't technically the 50th post in this series, but it's the 50th in the main plot sequence and that's pretty damn awesome. One of these days I'll stop boggarting all the cool stuff and let someone else take the wheel...er...keyboard. Thanks to any of our readers for sticking with us!)

The human was exactly where Greed wanted him. In his home, alone and sitting on the couch in his little apartment. What was it with that television thing that made them feel like they were doing something useful? It was something he would never understand. The male had a brace on his neck that was obviously holding his neck up and jaw closed.

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There are some things in life that are beyond one's control. Like, the weather, or your computer suddenly becoming a tourettes patient and spazzing on you, or whether or not that on-coming car at an intersection is going to stop when you've got the green, or if it'll floor-it through the red and turn you into a metal-human sandwich. Nothing can stop these things. They happen without warning and without a clear reason.

Then there are the things that one has complete control over. Like, what television show to watch, what pair of pants to wear, what food to eat, what conversations are had, what social scenes in which we're involved. These things are the mundane that keep us alive and feeling useful in society. They are decisions. The only ones that will ever empower us enough to make things happen.

As Hyde sat upright in his bed, watching Nakoa dress, the decision to tell her everything was a pressure against the front of his skull. He'd told her plenty in the last few days. More than he'd told Ivy the first day he'd met the Other. Then again, Ivy had already figured most of it out at that point. It was hard to keep much of anything a secret from that woman.

Hyde had just opened himself to Nakoa, and she'd been totally accepting. It was not something he was prepared for. He'd been braced for her to freak out and run. When she'd stayed, hell when she'd fallen asleep beside him, he'd felt at peace for once in...as long as he could remember.

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**Sometimes the Sins like to have conversations when they think I'm not paying attention. I managed to record one before they got too irritated with each other. It's fairly obvious how much they haven't communicated in the past...uh...ever. I suppose it just adds to their natural order of things...or disorder, as it were.***

"The boy needs to go."

Lust stared at her brother with a quirked brow, "yeah, so?"

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"Older and wiser never applied to me..."

He clicked the radio off, gesturing to a chair opposite and giving his guest a warm smile in greeting. They didn't need exaggerated gestures of greeting, comfortable enough in each other's company to ignore the ritual pleasantries. For a good while they just sat, until eventually one had to break the silence.

"You look well."

"And yourself."

A chuckle rose from his throat, along with a gentle shake of the head. "You're a terrible liar." Chuckles from the other side of the table, too.

"You're too hard on yourself, Drakathi. Not many others get to this age, let alone stay walking."

"Never thought I would, come to think. Always saw myself dying in the gutter, full of drink and holes."

"And I'm a poor liar?" His guest laughed openly, grinning across to him. "You wouldn't forgive yourself if you didn't look good."

"We are a proud race. But I think perhaps that the nature of my death isn't the purpose of your visit?"

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"Excuse me, Nakoa. There seems to be something that needs my attention."

She glanced at the pair at the table beside them. A young couple in business attire. "You know them?"

"Unfortunately."

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"So how is he?"

"He's fine. Asleep, at the moment. Thankfully. Did he ever used to sleep properly back when you knew him?"

"I don't know much about that. He could have learned to suppress tiredness - that would make sense."

"His wife must be some patient lady..."

"Which reminds me. Has he mentioned her, at all? No sign of his memory coming back?"

"That's the really weird thing. It's as though he can't remember, but doesn't seem to mind not knowing, either."

"And he knows what year it is, doesn't he?"

"With the amount of media he consumes, he'd have to."

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"How do I look?"

Hyde stood in front of his closet mirror adjusting himself needlessly. He'd tossed nearly every item of clothing he owned onto his bed, or on the floor. LC had been helping him pick out something to wear, until about an hour ago when she'd gotten fed up with him changing his mind, even when she assured him he looked fine.

Birdie. God-damned Birdie. First he has to go stir things up about me, then he has to go and get himself killed... shit. Shit. Stay calm.

Hyde was justifiably tense. This wasn't any sort of accident, and it sure as hell wasn't the nice sort of corpse you can file away under "argument", or "domestic", or some over convenient euphemism for pissing off the wrong person. This was very deliberate - probably meant to show as a warning, or something. Shame corpses didn't come with explanatory notes.

He took a long drag of the cigarette and sighed, reaching around for his cellphone. Fingers instinctively tapped out the digits.

"Ivy? It's me..."
( calmer? )