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Post by thebard on Sept 25, 2008 19:17:22 GMT -7
>>The corner of Typhon’s mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He wasn't a man given to smiling much. Not that he didn't find things fun, he was just serious. Still, he had his moments. Like now. “Don’t apologize. I don’t mind. Talk if you like. Sing if you like.”<<
When Typhon spoke, breaking the small silence between them, Rowan gazed up at him, instantly noting the corner of his mouth crinkling up into a smile. It was something about that smile that suddenly made Rowan's heart flutter and beat a little faster, made the heat rise into Rowan's cheeks. Regardless, that little smile, added to the shadows that were cast across the big man's face and figure from the light of the moon, made him so much softer, so much more handsome. One could believe at first that Typhon was rather ugly... but Rowan saw something so much deeper than that. And it was beginning to make Rowan realize that he may actually begin to like Typhon... 'As in like-like', he told himself as he followed the big man's gaze up to the moon. Being with another man was never something Rowan had seen in his future... but then again, he hadn't seen anyone of either sex in his future. This realization made him lapse into silence, pondering the notion.
>>“Pretty song,” Typhon added.<<
Rowan just continued to gaze up at the moon, but nodded his thanks. "I'm glad you liked it," he said gently before following Typhon to the retaining wall, sliding up on it to sit, ankles crossed and dangling over the edge.
"Thank you for visiting with me tonight, Agent Coluber," Rowan said after a few moments of gazing up at the moon with Typhon. "I'm very glad to have met you."
WIth a grin, Rowan leaned over and elbowed Typhon's side gently. He then grinning up at the big man, his honey-brown eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "And, you should really smile more often," he said. "Brightens up your face."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 25, 2008 21:08:13 GMT -7
The Bard came to perch next to him on the retaining wall, his legs dangling over the edge. “Thank you for visiting with me tonight, Agent Coluber,” Rowan said after a while, “I’m very glad to have met you.” Then he turned mischievous eyes on the big man, nudging him with an elbow, “And, you should really smile more often. Brightens up your face.”
Typhon gave Rowan a flatly disbelieving look. There was nothing that could make his face in the least bit attractive… smile or no. “Typhon,” he said cryptically, and when Rowan gave him a confused look, elaborated, “Call me Typhon. Or Ty.”
There were few who were close enough to him to call him Ty. Few who didn’t feel afraid to use such a familiar form of address. He had the notion that Rowan might be one of those few. It would be nice to have a friend again… not just a coworker. He might even confess his own secret power… there was something about Rowan that invited trust.
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Post by thebard on Sept 25, 2008 21:20:01 GMT -7
"Typhon..." Rowan rolled the name around in his mouth like a wine connoisseur may do with a taste of a select bottle of '67 blanc-de-noir. "Typhon... I like that name. It suits you, Ty."
Rowan crossed his feet at the ankles and bounced his heels off the retaining wall a few times, pondering how many people actually called the big agent by his first name rather than calling him 'Agent Coluber'. "And don't think I didn't mean what I said about you smiling," Rowan said after a moment, gripping the edge of the wall with his fingers as he looked up at Typhon again. "I saw that look you game me. The one that said 'you're quite mistaken'. I know what I saw, and I saw that smile, and it brightened up your face whether you believe it or not."
Rowan knew that he might have been out of line saying that to Typhon, a man who deserved his respect. But, it was true. And he couldn't help being honest, especially to someone who deserved honesty as well as respect. "A lot of people on this Earth are beautiful on the outside, and are like a snake pin inside," he said after a moment, gazing up at the moon again. "Hell... a lot of people are like that I guess. You're different... you're..." He fell silent, the heat rising in his cheeks once again. "You're different, I can tell."
Turning his gaze up to Typhon again for a moment, he let his eyes drop back down to his sneakers as he wiggled his toes within them. "I like that about you." He whispered gently. "I barely even know you... and I feel so comfortable around you."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 25, 2008 21:38:16 GMT -7
Typhon didn’t have the heart to correct Rowan. He had a mirror. He knew what he looked like. He knew that smiles didn’t make much of a difference to the crags and pits of his face, and on occasion even made the tattoos even stranger and more disconcerting to look at. It was all right. He was accustomed to his face, and to the reactions to it. He didn’t need Rowan trying to make him feel better about himself. Though it was nice that Rowan tried.
He shrugged. He’d heard that ‘beautiful on the inside – ugly on the inside and vice versa’ cliché a number of times from people trying to comfort him on his looks. He hadn’t really noticed that looks had much of an impact on personalities. He wasn’t trying to compensate for his looks. The only thing he compensated for was his size… it made him terribly prone to breaking things. He was glad though, that Rowan felt comfortable around him. It seemed the Bard needed a friend as much as Typhon did. “Good,” Ty said succinctly. “Me too.”
He wondered idly how many other people chose this perch. Was it seldom used, and therefore ideal in Rowan’s eyes? Or was it a ‘hideout’ for a number of people who just hadn’t managed to bump into each other. It might make a nice retreat for himself if it wasn’t often used. He liked to meditate and practice his forms out in the open air on occasion…
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Post by thebard on Sept 25, 2008 21:48:25 GMT -7
>>“Good,” Ty said succinctly. “Me too.”<<
Rowan just smiled in return, gazing up at Typhon again, letting his eyes linger a moment before looking back out over the view. It was always so beautiful up here, but tonight it seemed somewhat more beautiful. Sighing softly, Rowan thought back to his childhood and how much playing he did up here. Not that he had any other children to play with, or that he played like normal children. But, there was a lot of guitar playing up here, and a lot of pretending that Rowan was the lead singer of a rock band.
"How long have you been an agent, Ty?" Rowan asked finally after several long, comfortable minutes of silence passed between the two. "I bet that you have done and seen many thing that I'll never get a chance to."
Rowan looked up at Typhon again, his eyes filled once again with innocent questions. "Have you ever been to Europe? It's beautiful...I've looked at a lot of pictures of France and Italy and Spain online," he looked back down to his shoes, bouncing his heels off the retaining wall again a few times. "Would love to see the Paris opera house. See an elaborate opera like they put on in the old days..." He sighed whimsically, gazing back up on the moon. "That would be like a dream come true."
Closing his eyes, Rowan shook his head. "Anything would be better than looking at these same four walls all of my life," his voice was rather bitter. In fact, Rowan had seen little else other than the confines of BPRD.
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 28, 2008 15:21:23 GMT -7
“How long have you been an agent, Ty? I bet you have done and seen many things that I’ll never get a chance to.” Rowan looked up, “Have you ever been to Europe? It’s beautiful… I’ve looked at a lot of pictures of France and Italy and Spain online. Would love to see the Paris opera house. See an elaborate opera like they put on in the old days… That would be like a dream come true.” Rowan closed his eyes, “Anything would be better than looking at these same four walls all my life.”
Typhon cocked his head to one side, studying Rowan for a few minutes, before answering the slew of questions. “I’ve been with the FBI nearly 10 years. I’ve been to Europe a few times, on business. Never seen an opera, though.” He turned to face the younger man. “Why don’t you leave, then? I have heard the others have left on occasion for a vacation. Go and see Europe yourself. If you are afraid to go alone… take someone with you.”
Something tickled his hand and Typhon absently scratched at his tattooed skin. There was no reason for Rowan not to go… he didn’t stand out. Not even as much as Typhon did. As long as he didn’t sing, there was nothing to tell anyone that he was anything but just another tourist. If he did sing… well, sing a song of forgetfulness, and that cured anyone remembering that something unusual had occurred.
Typhon stared at his hand that he’d been scratching a moment ago. Swirls of black and red covered every inch of his body… including his hands. He didn’t like traveling. He didn’t like the unfriendly, suspicious, or frightened stares from a distance. No one spoke to him, or looked him in the eyes. If Rowan was looking for someone to tell him tales of their adventures abroad… he’d picked the wrong person. Typhon wasn’t a talker, and his tales weren’t exciting or amusing. Besides, travel really ought to be experienced in person.
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Post by thebard on Sept 29, 2008 17:57:56 GMT -7
Rowan was looking up at Typhon, grinning when the big man cocked his head to the side before listening intently to every word that he said. Rowan could tell by the sound of Typhon's voice that the man wasn't used to talking, and figured that when the man did speak, what he was saying was pretty important.
But... leave the Bureau??
That would never happen. Rowan would never get the nerve to actually leave the only place he called home to go and waltz around Europe by himself! He would only get lost... or... or eaten, or something else just as equally deadly and/or disastrous. "I would definatley have to go with someone... someone who has half a brain in their head," he just grinned again and knocked on his head lightly with his fist. "I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, and I'd 'prolly never make it back alive."
Rowan blinked when Typhon stared down at his tattoo covered hand, falling silent again. Blinking again, he looked down to Typhon's hand as well, his eyes tracing over the elaborate swirls of tribal markings. He reached out with both hands to cup Typhon's big one, and brought it into the moonlight to see it better. "What do they mean Typhon?" He asked softly, his eyes innocently inquisitive.
"Your tattoos? And... your eye? When did you lose it?"
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 30, 2008 20:29:20 GMT -7
“I would definitely have to go with someone… someone who has half a brain in their head. I’m not the brightest bulb in the box, and I’d prolly never make it back alive.” Rowan answered cheerfully with a rap to his own head.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Typhon frowned. Then his eyes widened in surprise as Rowan scooped up his hand in both of the younger man’s hands, and stared at the tattoos with interest.
“What do they mean, Typhon? Your tattoos? And… your eye? When did you lose it?”
Typhon was flabbergasted. That someone would be so bold as to touch him… let alone touch him without first asking permission… stunned him to the point of nearly answering the question. Ordinarily he did not answer such questions. In fact, he flatly ignored them, or stared silently at the questioner until they gave up any notion of further prying. But Rowan had caught him off-guard.
Typhon looked away in confusion and a little embarrassment. He stared at his feet as the silence grew between them for several minutes. He couldn’t bring himself to stare pointedly at Rowan in an attempt to intimidate. Yet he couldn’t answer either…
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Post by thebard on Sept 30, 2008 21:01:42 GMT -7
Rowan stared up at Typhon silently, blinking his big, honey-brown eyes in confusion. It was just a question right? What in the world was making Typhon get all embarrassed like this? And when Typhon looked down at his feet, Rowan did too, wondering if his legs and feet were covered with tattoos as well. Seeing how many were on his face and hands, Rowan guessed the big man's whole body must be covered with tattoos.
Looking up again with that same innocently inquisitive eyes, Rowan coked his head to the side. "I don't mean to bring up bad memories or anything, Ty," he said sweetly, squeezing the big man's hand affectionately. "I... I guess I just want to know more about you..."
Rowan's cheeks flushed a little and he looked down bashfully. "I mean, you're the first person I have talked to... and I mean really talked to, in a long time," he said softly, though his tone was serious. "I just want to get to know you, you know? That's what friends do, right?"
Rowan looked up at Typhon once more, his eyes matching the seriousness in his tone. He really did like Ty, found him fascinating. even though, deep inside, Rowan knew that he would never get up the nerve to tell ANYONE, let alone Typhon, that he had feelings for them. But, that didn't mean they couldn't be friends! Besides, he really didn't know WHAT he felt for Typhon. He hadn't had feelings for anyone before, and didn't know exactly how to explain why he felt the way he did.
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 30, 2008 21:40:28 GMT -7
Rowan hadn’t released Typhon’s hand. Typhon looked up slowly and studied the innocently earnest gaze. It was void of anything remotely resembling craft or guile. It was also rather frankly trusting, and patiently awaiting an answer. And Typhon had the rather sinking feeling that Rowan was perfectly willing to wait out Typhon’s silence all night or longer. He didn’t understand that the silence was an attempt not to answer… he probably figured it was just part of Typhon’s normal reticence.
Sighing heavily, Typhon gently freed his hand and turned his back to the retaining wall, leaning his hips against it. He looked up at the dark sky. “I never lost my eye.”
Rowan made a sound of surprise and confusion. Typhon stubbornly resisted looking over at him. “I cover my eye… so that I don’t see what it looks at.” Mmm… that statement only made for more questions, instead of answering Rowan’s. So Typhon sighed again and elaborated. “I can see things that are at a distance from me. Yards… miles… away. Distance makes little difference. Walls cannot block my sight. I am uncomfortable with that kind of knowledge. So, I cover my eye. The agency discovered it and sent me here.”
Now he looked down again, but not at Rowan. Instead he stared at his hands. “The tattoos mean many things. They are from many difference cultures. They all have arcane meaning though. They were meant to… channel…” He trailed off, refusing to complete that sentence. Channel the spirit of God, according to his parents’ beliefs. That they had failed had never ceased to be a source of conflict between him and his progenitors. Instead, he pulled back the cuff of one of his sleeves, showing the serpent that coiled around his wrist, clamping its own tail between its teeth. “This is the Ouroboros. The legendary serpent that bites its own tail. It symbolizes eternity. Death and rebirth. The endless cycle. It has many forms in various cultures… some call it the Midgard Snake, and believe it circles the Earth at the equator.” He undid the buttons at the cuff to roll back the sleeve a little more, proving the tattoos continued up his arm. He pointed to another symbol, tracing it with a finger to delineate it from the surrounding twists and spirals of the other symbols. “This is the alchemical symbol for salt. It’s believed to be a shield against decay and is closely associated with the Ouroboros.” He looked around for a bit and then pointed to another, once again tracing it, “This is the Tabono. It’s an ancient African symbol for strength and perseverance.” Typhon shrugged and rolled his sleeve back down, carefully buttoning the cuff again. He coughed slightly, his throat rough again. “I’m told there is a significant pattern to which symbols interconnect, and if you follow the right trail, it is a spell. I’m told there are thousands of spells written on my body, all interwoven. I’m not a mage. I don’t know if this is true.”
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Post by thebard on Sept 30, 2008 22:11:07 GMT -7
Rowan's eyes widened in wonderment and awe as he leaned in close to marvel at Typhon's tattoos. He couldn't help his sharp intakes of breath at every new fascination and barely kept his fingers from tracing over the lines. "They're so awesome..." he breathed when Typhon rolled his sleeve back down. "But... do they cover EVERY inch of you? I'd think I would hurt like a son of a gun to have the undersides of your arms tattooed... or the bottoms of your feet? Yikes!" He shuddered involuntarily. "I couldn't even imagine it."
"And your sight," Rowan said after a moment. "That... that's simply an amazing ability." He turned to look up the man again, holding his dark-eyed gaze for a long moment before he smiled. "You are simply a fascinating person to know Typhon Coluber."
Sighing, he turned his attention back out to the view, watching the lights of the distant city flicker in the distance, the light of the burning cauldron-like moment in the courtyard below casting warm yellow-orange light across the features of his boyishly handsome face. "Maybe I'll bring you with me..." he said in almost a whisper, as if barely even realizing that he was saying it aloud. "When I finally go to Europe." He the blushed a little and glanced over at Typhon. "Keep me from getting into trouble. You seem so much more level headed than I do... not to mention built like a tank!"
Rowan then grinned up at the big man. "Don't think I need to worry about getting mugged with you around!"
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 30, 2008 22:25:00 GMT -7
“Yes,” Typhon confirmed, “Every inch.” He shrugged casually, “It hurt.” Hidden by the deceptive flippancy of the two words was all the agony those tattoos had cost him. Oh, yes, it had hurt. Not that he’d had a choice. The pain was one more tool his parents used to try and mold him into what they wanted. The perfect prophet. A container for the God Spirit itself. Every inch of him was a spell… even the parts of the body not normally used for tattooing. The palms of his hands, the bottoms of his feet, his earlobes, his scalp (hidden by his hair) and even more… personal… areas.
Rowan’s attention, fortunately, had wandered back to the view, much to Typhon’s relief. He was not accustomed to such open interest. Most people stared at him from what they thought was safe obscurity… around corners and through curtains and such. That kind of scrutiny he could pretend he didn’t notice. Rowan’s open curiosity was a little harder to bear.
“Maybe I’ll bring you with me…” Rowan said softly, as though talking to himself, “When I finally go to Europe. Keep me from getting into trouble. You seem so much more level headed than I do… not to mention built like a tank!”
“I stand out,” Typhon demurred without actually refusing, “A lot.”
“Don’t think I need to worry about getting mugged with you around!”
He had to admit, that much was definitely true. Not that he was much of a tour guide… but, then there were plenty of books that filled that role. If all he was, was a bodyguard and conscience against imprudent behavior… he could manage that. If they played it up, Rowan might even get special treatment, since people assumed bodyguards only guarded the important or wealthy.
A thought occurred to Typhon, and he checked his watch. It was getting quite late. “It’s midnight,” he informed Rowan. “Should we head down?”
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Post by thebard on Sept 30, 2008 22:37:05 GMT -7
Rowan continued to gaze out over the lights, wondering how it would be to look but over Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower. 'Oh... Paris...' He though, thinking of all the places he could go, things he could do! From the Opera House to the Louvre, there were almost endless possibilities. And just to think of sharing it with his first friend seemed to make it so much more exciting!
>>A thought occurred to Typhon, and he checked his watch. It was getting quite late. “It’s midnight,” he informed Rowan. “Should we head down?”<<
Sighing sadly at the thought of the evening ending already, Rowan nodded reluctantly. I was getting late, and he still had work to do... and Typhon most likely had things to attend to in the morning. "Yes... may as well," he said, his voice hinting at how he felt.
Then, leading the way back towards the roof access door, he lead the way back down through the stairwells and elevator that lead back into the underground complex. He noted the emptiness of the halls as they walked on quietly before reaching the corridor that lead to Rowan's rooms. Stopping, Rowan turned to look up at Typhon, smiling brightly. "Thank you for hanging out with me tonight, Ty," he said in earnest. "I had a great time."
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Post by warriororiana on Sept 30, 2008 22:56:15 GMT -7
“Thank you for hanging out with me tonight, Ty. I had a great time.”
“As did I,” Typhon answered, with another slight curl to the corner of his lips… another almost-smile. Two in one night… astonishing. And after having talked about his tattoos and eye! Typhon could hear the reluctance to part in Rowan’s voice… but it was midnight. And morning came all too soon if one spent the night in frivolity. There would be other days… many other days… for the two of them to “hang out”.
“Goodnight, Rowan,” Typhon rumbled, and then headed in search of his own rooms. His exploration had been prematurely ended, but that too could wait for another day, and it was well worth it. It was odd to think that he had made a friend. Especially so easily. Then again, the one other friend that he had made had also been made equally quickly. So perhaps it wasn’t that odd. But it had been so many years since he’d had a friend. And this had been the last place he’d expected to make one.
Typhon retired to his room, and finally shed the suit and tie, trading it for a much more comfortable pair of loose pants. Pants that he could, and did, perform yoga in, as well as meditate in. He didn’t wear a shirt, but then, since he was alone he had no one to hide his tattoos from. And if someone should come to his door, he could throw on a robe to greet them.
Typhon moved around the room, lighting the many candles, and then turned off the lights. In the comfortable glow of the candles, he pulled out his meditation mat and spread it on the floor at the foot of his bed. He spent several minutes contorting his body into some basic yoga positions, calming and centering himself as he did. And then folded himself into a lotus position and dropped easily into a meditative trance.
Precisely an hour later, Typhon’s consciousness rose from the depths of the trance, and he opened his eyes. He stretched carefully and then rose to his feet, moving around the room again, this time carefully snuffing the candles. He paused after each candle to let the smoke dissipate so that the combined smoke wouldn’t set off any smoke alarms. Moving carefully in the dark, he made he way to the bed and climbed under the covers, composing himself on his back. Again he dropped into a trance… but this was not the same kind of trance as before. This was a much deeper trance and even more restful. Typhon rarely slept in the traditional way. He found meditative sleep far more restful, and if need be, a deep enough trance would make up for lost hours of sleep. It was also easier to surface from this kind of rest, without the disorientation that accompanied sleep. He could be awake and coherent within seconds, and ready to respond to any danger.
His last thought was to wonder how much his life would now be changed… and whether it would be a good change.
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Post by thebard on Oct 1, 2008 9:38:44 GMT -7
When Rowan reached his door, he paused before it closed all the way, watching Typhon's retreating form vanish around a corner. Sighing, he pushed the door closed with his hip and leaned up against it. Despite the fact that he felt saddened that the evening had to end, a smile spread across his face. It felt nice to know that he had finally made a friend.
Pulling off his hoodie, he tossed his shirt onto the floor next to his hamper followed by his t-shirt and ratted jeans. Then, n his socks and boxers, Rowan sat down before his keyboard, pulling out the folder of sheet music that he had intended to work on before he went to bed. But, even when he set his fingers on the keys of his Casio keyboard, he just couldn't concentrate. All that he could think of was the rumbling bass of Typhon's voice, the swirls of tattoos on the man's face, and the mystery of his eye.
Sighing gently, Rowan reached up and gently closed the folder before him. He had all the time in he world to finish his piece. He didn't mind so much setting it aside for the time being, his mind was filled with too many other wonderful things to let it bother him. Powering down his little music studio, he walked to his room and settled down into the comfort of his bed and fell quickly to sleep, his dreams filled with almost-smiles form a black and red tattooed face.
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