Backyard/Vegetable Garden

pandakatiefominz

pandakatiefominz

Wraith
The outside garden to the back and one side of the house. There's many different crops, plants and flowers. It connects to the outside, the Downstairs hallway and the stable. Besides the garden, there is a nice, green yard with a large tree with many twisting branches to climb. Additionally, there is some patio furniture, so the tenants can sit outside without needing to sit in the grass.
 
Deciding he did not wish to intrude upon his daughter for the time being, Dark walked out into the back garden, and sat down in one of the chairs. It all felt wrong, somehow, and the emotions of the day were finally catching up to him, now that he was alone. When he was alone, he did not need to pretend, or try to find a balance between allowing his child to see he had emotions, so she learned it was okay to have them, and not seeming so emotional that she felt like her home life was insecure. Deep down, he knew it was a blessing he had become a father, because otherwise, he would not have gotten out of bed since...

He roughly ran his hands over his face, and took a trembling breath. It was too damn hot outside to keep his sleeves down, and since nobody was around, he rolled them back up. Anyway, seeing them helped remind him of who he was. Or who he was.

From beneath his collar, he pulled out a silver necklace chain, and hung from it was a small, delicate, silver ring with a red stone. It looked rather similar to the one he wore on the ring finger of his left hand, but the stone was smaller, and the band more feminine. Once again, he whispered to the air, in Arabic, always in Arabic, and he fiddled with the ring. And he let all of the anguish he had been suppressing catch up with him, although to his frustration he still could not cry. He swore, that reflex had been broken since... He could not even think the words.
 
Thank fuck he had found some bars nearby. He had known they were there, of course, but downtown was always fancier. He usually went there, but today he didn't want to have to drive, so he went to the few homey and kinda shitty establishments one could find near the boarding house. At least they left you to brood alone if you asked and demonstrated you could pay. So that was good. He had also avoided anyone with connexions to his family, also good, but only because they had good taste. They were all awful bastards but with good taste.

Now a few hours and a lot of drinks later, after pissing on the bitchy neighbor's fence, he was back home!. He may still run into someone if he came in through the front door, or worse, Lukais could come snoop. So he didn't. He went around the back through the garden.

It was a wonderful night, full of stars, very little clouds and one strange man in the Luseths' garden. Uh-oh! Who was this? A random? The new tennant? Right, the one that had sort of intimidated Rose-y and Mitch-y and had a child.

Somehow Ikanov had been quiet as a mouse when he came into the garden, but he didn't bother hiding. He liked to think he didn't, but he was actually sort of stumbling and not seeing all that well?. So he leaned against the side of the house before talking.

"Well well we-eugh. Who the fuck are you, hot stuff?" He said. Because fine he couldn't see so well, but the man looked big and he liked beefy guys. Especially when he was feeling bold. Like right now!
 
Dark slowly looked up, unstartled. He did not hear the other man approach, but he smelled him. Like piss and alcohol. It did not take a detective to discern where he had been. He released the ring around his neck, and looked hard at the stranger, annoyed his mourning had been interrupted, before at last saying, "My name is G.M. Dark. And you are?"

He was simultaneously glad he had not fetched his daughter, because she did not need to meet him like this (he presumed he was the final member of the house, the one he had been warned about), and regretful he had not decided to intrude upon her privacy, so he did not need to meet him like this. Although, he told himself it was a positive, to make the introduction like this, because otherwise... Well, he did not know what sort of man the stranger was when he was drunk, and it would be good for him to figure it out, because he feared to let his daughter near him until he figured it out. If he was the sort to get violent, he would rather learn so when his daughter was not around.
 
Ikanov was looking the man up and down so hard the other could probably feel it. He adjusted his posture as best as he could and crossed his arms over his chest. It was dark, but somehow he still managed to look smug.

"You must know already if you're here. Luka-lu is too nice not to warn people before they come in. So how come you're here hm? Nowhere else to go, daddy-oh?" He asked, smirking like a wolf. It looked wrong and feral, next to his disheveled appearance. But behind the bravado was genuine curiosity. It wasn't like the name he used, Ikanov was anywhere close to unknown. Sure most people hadn't heard about it, but the minute you did minimal research as to the few dangers in Juniper Hollow, there it was. Like a blinking light, so why would a good family man come here if not out of necessity or something?. What if he was dangerous? Maybe he ought to ask his own father about a G.M. Dark. Assuming that was his real name.
 
"I came for work." Dark replied, not in the least intimidated. And it was not a lie. His old boss called around and J.H. High was hiring. He did a phone interview and was hired within the week. That was why he was in this town. And that is what he was asked. Why he came here. Not exactly a thrilling answer. But it was the truth.

Now, if he had been asked why he left his old home... And he found it almost cute the way the light-haired man was puffing up his chest, attempting to make himself seem large and threatening. Dark had read about the 'dangers' in Juniper Hollow, sure. But he had been living in Chicago since 1940. Prior to his 'settling down' he traveled the country during Prohibition-era gangs, and on one occasion, by complete happenstance, he even met John Dillinger. One little crime outfit did not frighten him. And as for his daughter, yes, he would have been thrilled to move somewhere with less criminal activity, but this was the town that hired him. And, to be honest, when he was her age, he was literally living in a warzone. There were no bombs in Juniper Hollow, and the chances of being mugged were far lower than they were in Chicago, and as a father it was all he could ask for.
 
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Abel wasn't exactly a match, physically, for this goddamn bear of a man. But his posturing wasn't about that, it was good he didn't scare easily. He didn't like cowards! Not one bit. He did like talkers, but this one wasn't going to give in so easily it seemed.

"I'd hire you as a bodyguard any time, you're strong and I think a looker. But I'll let you know when I'm not seeing fucking double sometime. Anyway handsome." He said, laughing a bit, daring to let go of the safety of the wall and walking closer to the other. It only accentuated their differences, light and day.

"I hope your kid isn't a pain in the ass, 'cause I sure as hell don't like them little gremlins."
 
"No thank you, I am not interested in that line of work." Dark replied, wishing he still smoked, so he could distract himself somewhat. But of course he quit, because when it became linked to cancer he said, well, I would not want to die prematurely. That turned out swell. His wife never smoked. Here he remained.

"My daughter is excellent," He added, "but I doubt anything I could say would convince you of it. And she is too tall to be gremlin. So, not little. Only young." He remained sitting, and seemed calm, but he was annoyed by the presumptions made about his child. To him, she was everything good in the world. But he did not look the type to respect that notion... although, in fairness, ten and a half years ago, he probably would have laughed at it, too.
 
"Tall gremlin, done. Probably not excellent, but I'd need the opinion of someone who is not the daddy of the hellish creature to get a decent opinion. So what line of work? Lulu must have told me, but I'm a busy man. Anything sexy? You look the part." He wouldn't give up, not as long as his... Whatever they were, inadequate sentences, were completely ignored. He'd get a raise out of this guy yet without going straight for the heart. He was drunk, not stupid and looking to get punched.

He was now standing right in front of Dark. Would it be too much to get on his knees? Maybe then he'd fucking move.
 
"I am a high school history teacher," He replied, "so I would refrain from calling the work 'sexy,'" He looked up at Ikanov, and then decided to mess with him back. He clearly was trying to bother him, which, again, was cute. This was far from his first time being called attractive by another man, but if he wanted a battle, well, "or, I suppose I should say I am a history teacher now. I used to be in... a very different, line of work. And Lilith was hellish, but she was also excellent, and would not curtail to the whims of man."
 
The albino just sort of got on his knees in front of Mr. Dark, still deeply amused, and put his hands on the man's knees.

"Good for Lilith, she deserved better. And I definitely think that's a sexy profession, tall, dark and handsome. After all, if it was you teaching I'd be sooo good, just for you daddy'o." He looked up at the man and licked his lips. Sort of whispering, sort of not.

"So what was your different line of work Hm? Is it a secret? Love me some secrets..." He said, starting to think he probably had better things to do. But at least it was funny.
 
Dark removed Ikanov's hands from his knees, and said, "I assure you, working with teenagers is less endearing than it seems, and it may be old-fashioned of me, but I prefer not to abuse my students." Clearly this man had never learned of personal space. And he was accusing his child of being hellish.

"I am not sure you are ready to learn about my old job. I believe it is something you need to be very good to hear about, and I am not sure I can trust you to be very good." He was not speaking in a flirtatious way, he was speaking to Ikanov the way he spoke to Ivy when she was six and getting into things she should not have been... but he was somewhat concerned he could speak in a clown voice and this pale man would still find it attractive.
 
Ikanov sat back then, being spoken to like a child, but he could work with that.

"Aw but I wanna be good, sounds kinda interesting too, and believe me that you don't want me digging, daddy, because I'll find out. So spill." He said, his voice taking on a sweetly venomous tone. When he did that, his tone turned sort of androgynous, if Dark was t looking at a man he wouldn't be sure who was talking to him. Not that his gender was obvious at first sight either.

"What was your job, Hm? Something dangerous? Cool? Seeexy?" He asked, at least respecting Dark's show that he wanted space.
 
"You will not believe me," Dark hummed. Ikanov could do all the digging he wanted to. He was not ashamed of his former career, if anything, he missed it, "it could be all of those things. Or it could be boring. Or an adventure." He knew full well he needed to be careful about what he said, because he did not want to give this drunkard anything to hold against him, but then he slipped up a little, because thinking about his past career, he could not help but add, "It was where I met my wife."

It was probably a mistake to mention, but what could he do? It was not his fault he was interrupted when he taking the time to grieve. And, to be fair, if his heart was in a place to joke, meeting his wife in his former career did, in fact, make it rather sexy.
 
He saw Ikanov's eyes shine for a moment, like a cat who and figured out a piece of a puzzle that would get him more mice.

"You had a job you don't want to tell me about, one you think I wouldn't believe, where you met your wife. The plot thickens... Go on darling, what were you doing when you met her?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. He was glad he had sat down, at least this was he couldn't fall, and if he puked he was close to the ground.
 
"What was I doing? It was 1924, and I was only handing out flyers in Central Park in June. But she was up to much more, because she had snuck away from her fiancé and all her ladies-in-waiting and her maids--she had only come to the United States specifically to marry this man, some wealthy buisness man, because her family is all wealthy buisness people, and it seemed advantageous, but she snuck away," He smiled, or, as much as he ever smiled, which was really only a brief flicker at the ends of his mouth, mostly obscured by his neatly-groomed facial hair. There was not much he liked to talk about, but lately she consumed all of his free thoughts. And now he was being asked about her, so how could he resist?

The drunken man seemed interested, at least, and had not immediately turned to mocking him the moment he mentioned he had a wife. That was encouraging. And did he not deserve to talk about her?

"And I saw her, because you could not miss her, and I gave her a flyer, which she could not read, and I knew it, but I wanted to speak with her. She had been singing to herself in Arabic, and I had not heard that song since I was young, so I gave her the flyer, and I read it to her, since she could not see the words, and I told her to come and hear the calliope..." He sighed. He had been unconsciously fiddling with the ring he wore around his neck, and he seemed quite different, all of a sudden. He had almost forgotten who he was speaking to, and when he remembered, he straightened up, and said, "That was what I was doing, when I met her."
 
The ring Ikanov hadn't missed, listening attentively in his drunken haze. He had come in here looking to sneak in, then later he hoped for an unfair fight, and now he was... What? Who cared? He inched closed to the guy, but he didn't touch him.

"So, random man meets beautiful foreign woman, in Central park, while handing out flyers. And she was there for what, an arranged wedding? Not surprising really. But it sounds like the beginning of something tragic, as love stories always are. Fake or tragic, darling, and you're so in love with her even today it can only be one. Am I wrong?" He said, tilting his head to he side with one arched eyebrow. It felt like he was accusing Dark of something sinful, maybe. Of something bad. Of being Icarus and flying too close to the sun or tempting fate by being happy. He knew love when he saw it, even drunk. He had seen it, he could recognise it. He hadn't experienced it and he didn't want to, but it didn't mean he was fucking blind.
 
"Not beautiful." Dark replied firmly, "She never liked that word. Not for her. She was something else, something better. Like waves crashing upon the shore, or a churning tempest. She is lit from within, but she is not beautiful." He played fast and loose with tenses, and he hated the tone in Ikanov's voice. What did he know about it? He never met her. He would love her too, if he had. If he had the wisdom to see what was in front of him. But so few ever did, because she was not beautiful. And he knew, of course, he should not get heated at the comments of a drunken man, but he knew not what he said.

"She was Persephone. You can not understand. She had fires banked down inside of her. And she came, you know. Five days before her wedding, the day after we met, she came to my place of employment while it stood there. She sat in the crowd during my act, even though she could not see it. But she heard my voice. What does beauty have on that?" He was not angry, he did not know how he felt. The pale man, who crouched in front of him, he could not, he could never... What did he know of tragedies? How could this drunk judge him?
 
"So you act. An act for the bringer of death, who is not, according to what, society's standards?, beautiful. You are by the way, You're fucking gorgeous. I'd bet money on you being a stripper if you hadn't opened your mouth ever. Can you even dance?" Said Abel, looking up at the other earnestly. Then he broke into soft giggles, like bubbles in the depths of the ocean, or in a fizzy drink.

"Dunno what beauty had on that, she was blind then?, or something like that. Anyway, seems like she was looking for an escape. And if we're talking 'bout your wife then she clearly didn't get married to richman McRich five days later. I think I'm gonna call you Hades. So long story short now you're sitting here, looking sad as hell, talking to me. Maybe it's you who doesn't understand shit, want to cry or something?, I'm not gonna tell anyone if you cry. Dunno what little me can do for you, because one of the few things I'm good at is warming up beds. And you don't want that right now." Said Ikanov, still sitting on the grass. He sighed, looking up, into Mr. Dark's eyes. His own were a light red, maybe pink. They glinted reflecting some light, any light, but there was no mischief.
 
"You are drunk." What else could he say? One would almost think the roses on his hands withered, and in a more fantastical time and place they would have, but this was the real world, and the ink remained constant. He was neither an actor, nor a stripper, he was Illustrated. She picked the name. And he lived amongst the Skeleton, and the Pretzel Woman, and the Dog Boy, and the Strong Man, and then she lived there too.

He did not want anything from this man. He wanted one thing only, and it was the only thing he could not have, and he hated Orpheus, who doubted and turned around. He was glad he did not smoke anymore. Even outside the air seemed too thin, now. Yes, he wanted to cry. No, he could not do it. Not because he did not want to. Well, he did not exactly feel like crying in front of this drunken shlub, but had he been with people he knew well, he would. But it was not possible for him.

And he was so much stronger than this. Or he used to be. He made too many mistakes in this conversation. He could count every one. Dark inhaled, drummed one tattooed finger on his knee, and said, "I believe I have said quite enough about myself for one night. It seems only fair you should answer some questions now, no?"
 
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