12-02-2018, 11:55 PM
If Jaxen was being honest, and let’s not kid ourselves, that isn’t one of his talents, he was not rich. In fact, the only things in sight that were rightfully his, were acquisitions by Voxel. Jaxen hadn’t done an honest day’s work in his life, and fingers crossed he’d never endure such suffering, but when daddy-dear cut him off, only his mother’s great love (and deep purse), kept his lifestyle afloat. So technically, he needed Aiden for more than his fledgling skills with the ancient power, but also to avoid mom’s nosing her way into his business. Ironic thing was that if Jaxen announced his intent to flit around the world in the company of an infamous rock star, nobody would bat an eyelash. An academic exploration of the northern sea? They’d lose their minds.
He was also quite amused by the assumption that he stole the lost pages. For one thing, they’d been lost for a thousand years and despite Jaxen’s fondness for immortality, he wasn’t that old. Nor did he even know if the real pages still existed. Instead, the amused grin conjured the daring eyes of Oriena twisting to something plainer than her dangerous beauty projected. That was one of the first times his abilities to transform reality gained another level. That same day, Jaxen himself wore the face of John White and sauntered straight into the Atharim headquarters with only a few bumps along the way. Sure they burned the place down, but not before Jaxen snagged a peek into their system from the inside. The glimpse at the Lost Pages only one of the rewards of that day.
Questions for the danger followed, and Jaxen felt the dullness poke his brain like a blunt-ended thumb. Who would be after them? Hopefully nobody if they kept their traps shut about the whole plan. But before he could wax on Aiden’s lacking sense of adventure, the old couple clasped hands and sank deeper into their own rickety rocking chairs. How long did Aiden think they’d be gone? Jaxen wasn’t exactly planning on slumming it in the Irish muck for the rest of his life. Then again, Sage’s presence might be an interesting asset.
He grumbled, tossing his hands. “Good Allfather, people. Alright he can come,” his gaze fell upon Sage’s seemingly innocent features. How much did Aiden know about the great love of his life? Anything about the real man behind those dark eyes? Jaxen beheld only a glimpse, but he suspected. Just like Sage likely suspected himself in return. “But you have to cut out the cloyingly sweet—” his hands waved about, lip curling like he bit into a sour fruit, “co-dependency.” The hop to that followed was surprisingly spritely compared to the demand’s pessimism, so it was unclear if he was joking.
“Let’s leave tomorrow night. Since the only thing holding you back is coming along, eh Aiden? I have a feeling I should lay low out of town for a few weeks.” With that, he was swift to kick his guests out. As much as he wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting to watch Jaxen’s activities next, hell it’d be like watching Beethoven at the piano, he was shockingly not so much into the idea if Sage was around. It’d be like inviting your little brother to an orgy.
He was also quite amused by the assumption that he stole the lost pages. For one thing, they’d been lost for a thousand years and despite Jaxen’s fondness for immortality, he wasn’t that old. Nor did he even know if the real pages still existed. Instead, the amused grin conjured the daring eyes of Oriena twisting to something plainer than her dangerous beauty projected. That was one of the first times his abilities to transform reality gained another level. That same day, Jaxen himself wore the face of John White and sauntered straight into the Atharim headquarters with only a few bumps along the way. Sure they burned the place down, but not before Jaxen snagged a peek into their system from the inside. The glimpse at the Lost Pages only one of the rewards of that day.
Questions for the danger followed, and Jaxen felt the dullness poke his brain like a blunt-ended thumb. Who would be after them? Hopefully nobody if they kept their traps shut about the whole plan. But before he could wax on Aiden’s lacking sense of adventure, the old couple clasped hands and sank deeper into their own rickety rocking chairs. How long did Aiden think they’d be gone? Jaxen wasn’t exactly planning on slumming it in the Irish muck for the rest of his life. Then again, Sage’s presence might be an interesting asset.
He grumbled, tossing his hands. “Good Allfather, people. Alright he can come,” his gaze fell upon Sage’s seemingly innocent features. How much did Aiden know about the great love of his life? Anything about the real man behind those dark eyes? Jaxen beheld only a glimpse, but he suspected. Just like Sage likely suspected himself in return. “But you have to cut out the cloyingly sweet—” his hands waved about, lip curling like he bit into a sour fruit, “co-dependency.” The hop to that followed was surprisingly spritely compared to the demand’s pessimism, so it was unclear if he was joking.
“Let’s leave tomorrow night. Since the only thing holding you back is coming along, eh Aiden? I have a feeling I should lay low out of town for a few weeks.” With that, he was swift to kick his guests out. As much as he wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting to watch Jaxen’s activities next, hell it’d be like watching Beethoven at the piano, he was shockingly not so much into the idea if Sage was around. It’d be like inviting your little brother to an orgy.