Sep 25 20:28:26 105 PA

From Chronicles

The current game time is: Fri Sep 25 20:28:26 105 PA.

The Kingsdale Plaza Park stretches out to the west approximately sixteen-hundred feet until it meets with a residential area. The ground is covered with sporadic grass and wild flowers. Deep craters from some long-ago weapons fire cover this area of the park making the ground uneven and in some places difficult to walk. Nonetheless, this area has seen extensive use by the people of Kingsdale. Bike trails criss-cross the area and one of the craters has been filled with water where duck and other water birds come. These waterfoul seem to have quite a good living too, with people almost always present to feed them. Here and there are stands of conifer trees that people often sit beneath to read and otherwise forget the trials and tribulations of city life. The exception to this is during the night though, and nobody comes to the park after dark unless they are either foolhardy in the extreme or looking for trouble. The wind blows through the area unhampered and on good days it carries with it the laughter of children feeding ducks and the sweet scent of pine and wild flowers. Benches and places to sit are also scattered through the park area, and to the south is a Pavillion of five statues -- all previous dictators and people of note to Kingsdale's past.

Ragnar is standing over by one of the bike trails. He is leaning up against the tree-- going over the trail he was recently jogging with his eyes. The past few days he has been very scarce-- keeping to himself. Even though people pass by, he doesn't make an effort to interject and start a conversation. It is uncharacteristic of him, but it might just be his new MO since he came to town.

Aimee is dressed for jogging, but definitely isn't engaged in it. She is, instead, walking slowly along the paths in the park, her face thoughtful. She glances at the people that pass by, not seeking but checking. As her gaze alights on her twin, she turns her feet towards him, calling out his name lightly. "Ragnar!" She lifts a hand, waving at him.

Ragnar's head was downcast just slightly-- eyes off into the distance as if lost in thought. The moment ends before the second syllabul of his name is said-- head turning in a blur towards the noise. The chemically induced tension fades back to normal after he recognizes who it is-- letting a faint sigh go along with it. "Ah. Sis," he replies-- shifting his shoulders off of the tree to face her.

She moves to stand in front of him, resting hands lightly on her hips, a small frown on her face. "Mon jumelee... what is it? You seem tense." A small corner of her mouth tugs upwards, a half smile. "And you have been so not here that I wondered if you had left town without a word." She gives him a slow, considering look.

"I gave it some thought," Ragnar replies as he looks over his twin, "but I have not left yet. There is just a lot on my mind-- and the world around me goes so slow, there are few answers I'm finding in it." The young man looks around the park-- which is rather serene during this day, "Its too peaceful-- things for old men and children, but not me."

"Don't you dare leave without telling me, or I shall get you later..." She gives him a fierce, faked scowl. "Few answers? What questions are you asking?" She glances around also, lifting an eyebrow at him when she sees nothing different, nothing new. "Walk with me, and share gossip and news?"

Ragnar starts walking-- steps graceful as if he was weightless in motion. "Gossip? No gossip to speak of. I don't find people all that-- interesting anymore," he motions a hand as he talks, "Sex. Money. Violence. Its all the same thing-- painted differently from person to person." He chuckles a little, "Doesnt that sound strange-- coming from a Juicer? Hell, don't we sell our souls for less?" Then he murmurs, "If we even have them to begin with."

Aimee tucks her arm around his, snuggling into his side. "Well, perhaps it isn't your gossips I meant." She comments, sticking out her tongue at him childishly. "And oui, you sell your soul to move a little faster, die a little earlier, and we perhaps won't talk about it, because I am in a good mood, me, and do not wish to fight with you." She slants him a sidelong look, lifting an eyebrow.

Ragnar looks over his shoulder to his sister. It would look more fitting if he was the big, burly, big brother type-- but in all honesty he is nothing of the sort. He is lean with a gymnastic build, somehow holding true to thier genetic heritage as they walk. "Ah-- then there is some good news. I won't have to fight with you today. Sure-- if your gossip is better than mine. And since I have none, I'm sure it will be."

Aimee rolls her eyes at Ragnar, her cheeks blushing slightly despite herself. "Oui, there is some news. Desmond and I, we made up from our fight." The smile that curves her lips is feline, the cat that got the cream. "Oui, most certainly made up. I think, me, I tamed my cat too much and now I found that I missed his roar..." She lifts her eyebrows meaningfully. "Oui?"

Desmond comes along from deeper into the park, though he doesn't walk alone at first. An aged man walks beside the big cat, the two speaking together in low tones. A simple, casual discussion by the looks, the elder man holding Desmond's sketchpad, flipped open to a page in the center of the book. A few moments after the two come into view, they pause. The man hands the sketchpad back to the big cat, who takes it lightly and dips his head once. "I will consider your words. Farewell," he will rumble, the man tipping his own head in reply before he turns to continue on his way. Desmond is distracted by his well worn pad for a moment, considering the page it is turned to before flipping it closed.

Ragnar looks to Aimee apathetically, "Thats-- great?" He is somehow taken back to his previous statement about gossip-- and reinforcing his stance on it. Then he looks back to the trail they are walking-- no real destination in mind.

She frowns a little at the reaction, nudging him with her shoulder, "Oui, great." She informs him loftily. "And what has you in this mood?" She is teasing him openly now, "Is it a woman?" The words slip out thoughtlessly and she looks stricken, the moment they leave her mouth.

"Always is. Always will be," Ragnar says without taking offense. His voice doesnt even change to reflect his 'dark' mood today. He looks over towards his twin, "I sit still and I think. I think and I end up like this. I just have to keep moving. No destination. No rush to reach it. Not everyone has a happy ending, sis. And right now the chapters are... bland."

With the pad closed, Desmond will turn his attention upward and outward more. It won't take long for him to sight Aimee and Ragnar ahead of him, the inevitable gravity drawing him to approach steadily. Not rushing and neither veiling, not announcing himself as he strides forward. As a consequence, it gives him a few moments of 'listen time', ears perked forward alertly as he closes the distance.

She stops walking, turning to embrace the man at her side, whether he wants it or not. "Mon poor jumelee..." She offers the words of comfort gently, her attention solely on him. "I think, perhaps, you need to work, to keep your mind off it." She tilts her head back, frowning slightly, her thoughts hidden behind her eyes.

"I don't disagree with you," Ragnar says as he turns on a dime to face her-- eerie and unnatural motion from his contract. "Legwork-- a heavy workout regimine-- even base hunting in the wilderness," he mentions, "have not done anything for me. And people-- every day the schism between us gets wider-- and deeper." He runs a hand through his hair, "I read about it... and I don't know if its the drugs or the lingering left undone."

"A mind left idle often often turns down many roads," Desmond will rumble as he nears. Giving a respectful nod towards Ragnar, offering a familiar, "Ragnar." Then a warm look for Aimee. "My Aimee," he greets her. Eyes lingering for a moment before they return to Ragnar. "I wonder.. what would you seek to do for yourself, were you to do that which most calls to you?" An honest interest in his deep voice and a discreet distance held from the two at first, though he stands relaxed in both stance and demeanor.

She steps back a little at Desmond's voice, turning to see him with a quick smile. "Mon chat." She replies, mock seriously. She rests her hands lightly on her hips, watching the two men talk, her eyes thoughtful. "Perhaps he should hunt with you and mon minet..." She murmurs softly, consideration in her eyes.

Ragnar looks from his sister to her cat and back again. "To do for myself? I'd do the world a favor and punch God in the face," he says, looking back to Desmond, "twice." He keeps his odd sense of humor, "Lucky for him, I can't find him. What are you hunting?"

Desmond's brows lift at the humor that is sent his way. As with most it doesn't prompt a laugh. in this case, he even seems a bit bemused at the thought. He glances towards Aimee, as if to gauge her reaction, his response being one more general. "Truth be told, Kesslan and I do not hunt regularly. Or, at least, I do not, but I suspect Kesslan would not be shy about telling me if he was." He slowly slips his sketchpad back into his jacket and adds, "At the moment, I have no battle planned. Some friends have expressed interest in investigating the dinosaur threat, but I did wish to speak with you before giving any commitment to lend aid." That last directed to Aimee in particular.

Aimee chuckles, soft and low, at the humour, recognising it for the dark humour. "Perhaps you should, and without children with water pistols." She replies softly, her tone dry. "Mon chat, I think, me, I will not tell you if you should fight or not. I wouldn't wish to remove the roar from mon chat..." She gives him a meaningful look, her dimples deepening. "So, if you wish it, go and take my twin here before he mopes himself into a decline."

Ragnar looks sidelong to his sister, "He has to ask you for permission to be himself? Are you attempting to redefine the word 'pussy-whipped' or something?"

Desmond gives Aimee a curious look at her talk of his roar. "I doubt you could ever do such a thing, My Flame," he rumbles. Then Ragnar gets his attention and the big male shakes his head slightly. "I honor her by seeing that she knows when I have a mind to put myself in danger. She does not define who I am in any way more than those who mean the most to us given influence." All said in utter seriousness. He looks back to her and adds, "In truth I know not if I will go. The trip seems.. foolhardy in some ways. Without precise goal."

The spark of temper, so easily lit by her brother, shines in the eyes that Aimee turns on Ragnar, and her hands rest on her hips as she faces him. "Non. I am trying not to be so." She shakes her head, clearing the temper from her mind. "And you, you are picking a fight because you are so miserable and I. I shall not respond to it." She sticks her tongue out, the temper vanished under the humour in her eyes. Desmond's words get him a warm smile and a warmed look in her green eyes.

"Misery loves company," Ragnar says to his sister with his eyes still sidelong on her. Turning back to the larger cat he says, "Foolhardy and without precise goal. Sounds like something I'd be interested in. Maybe you should stay here and mind my sister-- maybe do some cleaning for her, some cooking. Don't forget the collar and the 'Yes Mistress' though. I hear her skills with a cat-o-nine can bring an average man to his knees if you forget the basics."

Desmond arches his brows at Ragnar, seeming quite uncertain at first blush just how to take his words. But given Aimee's prior response, he lets such things slide off his back after a moment, cutting to the first part initially. "If you'd wish to speak to them on it, you might approach Etienne or Robert. Both are involved." A pause, then a thoughtful look towards Aimee. "He reminds me there are some things I might with to speak to you about at another time." Though just what it might be remains hidden behind the natural neutrality that comes to Desmond when hints of emotion don't bleed through.

Aimee narrows her eyes at her twin at the comments to Desmond, temper flaring in them once more. "Oui, and I should put yours on and tighten it to keep your mouth from flapping." Her voice is a low, soft purr, dangerous. "Oh, mon chat?" She questions softly, giving him her attention, deliberately ignoring Ragnar. "Etienne or Robert make you want to talk with me?"

Ragnar closes his eyes and motions a hand nonchalantly, "And here I thought you were infailable to my taunts. Looks like I have company after all." Opening them he nods his head to Desmond, "Robert-- the researcher I met at the library-- and when those 'dogs' interupted the band. Yes. I know where to find him at least."

"Private matters, for you and I." Which prompts Desmond to approach her now, a hand extending out to meet her first, the backs of his fingers drawn along her cheek gently. His head lifts then, eyes turned towards Ragnar again as he moves behind Aimee, should she allow, his arms draping lightly about her in a casual sort of embrace. "Yes, he is one to speak of when it comes to this trip. I will admit I am curious to know what has made the creatures more numerous in this area. If something is driving them to these lands and if so, what. But to strike out blindly in search.. a dangerous proposition." Not that he seems overly worried or fearful himself with that statement of fact.

Aimee's expression softens at the look from Desmond and the touch. She leans into the embrace, giving her twin a steady stare. "And non, you do not have company. I am too happy to join your blues...." She responds to his taunt. "But perhaps a blind search is not a bad thing, perhaps bring some things to light that you might not find otherwise..." She shrugs lightly, tilting her head back to look up at the man.

Ragnar motions a hand as he steps past the two on that note, "Too much speculation. Not enough deliberation." He could go on with words ending in 'tion, but then he'd have to get a day job as a rapper. "Have fun you two," he notes-- going onward to find something to occupy his time.

"I have not decided yet," Desmond assures Aimee. "But when I do, you shall know of it." His eyes lift again as Ragnar starts to go. It doesn't stop Desmond from repeating what was asked before. "And what of you and your fun? I still do wonder what it is you would turn to to fill your time. Battle in part, I am sure.. but what besides that?" The question asked in all due seriousness.

Aimee gives her brother a frustrated look, her forehead wrinkling into a frown. "You are irritating, you know that, oui?" She calls after him. She turns from her twin, back to her lover, with a curious smile on her lips. "So, mon chat..." She murmurs, "What did you have to ask?"

Desmond dips his attention to Aimee and his expression warms. "Matters of that which you did before. speaking of such things as he did.. it has reminded me of things I have wished to discuss with you for a while yet, but it seems there is ever something.. a distraction that draws my thoughts away for a time. And when again I remember, there is the next thing. It seems this day is one in which we shall not be so disturbed." Though even as he says this, his eyes lift. As if to scan about for what might descend to draw his attention away this time.

"I did before?" She repeats softly, her foreheadd wrinkling. "So what is it that you remember and wish to talk about?" She narrows her green eyes at him, questioningly, suspiciously. "You, mon chat, need to stop dancing around the question and ask me..." She glances around, her eyebrows drawing together.

Desmond returns his attention to Aimee then and a few moments of quiet will ensue as he considers, as ever, just what to say. "I wish you to teach me of the things you know about intimacy. Just as you taught me the details of cooking," he tells her. Not perfectly precise, but more on target. "Such as that which I did walk in upon when I broke your door. Things you enjoy, but that I do not yet truly understand. Such that I can better understand those aspects of you and expand that which I know."

Aimee's eyes widen and her attention fixes on him. She slides her hands into her back pockets, giving him a steady look, thoughtfully. "You want me to tell you everything I know, about sex and intimacy?" She stresses the word sex, giving him a narrow eyed look. "And, mon chat..." She hesitates before speaking these words. "The things they paid me to do, I didn't enjoy them. It isn't like us, or for fun..."

Desmond cants his head slightly, a soft confusion coming to him then. "I was mistaken to think so, then." Not that he seems too perturbed by this, adding, "This shows how important it is that such a sharing be done. I do not wish to think falsely about that which you do or do not enjoy. Be it sex or be it other, simpler matters." He keeps this gentle, almost casual embrace as he rumbles lowly, "I wish to have no uncertainty. Though it is not something we need do in the now, I did wish for you to know my desire for this. Much already you have shown me and much more there is to know and experience together."

Aimee nods slowly, biting her lip, catching it between her teeth as she ducks her head, avoiding his gaze. "Oui. You were mistaken." She hesitates, lowering her voice. "Do you enjoy moving those boxes you move so much at work?" She questions, trying to show him the comparison. "Perhaps I look as if I enjoy it, the same as I look so happy at the bar when my feet hurt, and I wish to be at home."

"In a way, but it is not something I would do had I not been paid for it," Desmond replies, a sense of understanding in his voice. One hand lifts, his fingers drawing slowly through her hair as considers briefly before offering, "I am glad to have asked, to know your heart better than before. And I do hope you might keep in mind my own desires to learn in the future." And he seems content with that alone in the immediate as his next words are on something else altogether, "He seems.. adrift. Something not unexpected." Desmond's head lifted and tilted towards the direction that Ragnar disappeared in, indicating the 'he'.

"He gets dark moods, I think me, we are both moody in our ways." She replies first to the concern of her twin, her forehead wrinkling, avoiding the other part. "I think, me, he needs something to do, something to busy his mind and keep it from her." Her face softens, the thought of her friend, his love, showing in her face.

Desmond nods his head in agreement to those words. "Something to fill the space.. if not a female, for such things cannot be pushed nor rushed. Something besides battle, for while that can fill a space, it is best not so loved as a female might be." His eyes going a touch distant as he ponders this most uncertain question. "Do you know what he enjoys, Aimee? Perhaps a trade or activity when you both were together. There, perhaps, is a place to start."

"Non, he has changed, he isn't the same as when I left. He was so happy. He and she, they had plans..." She shrugs off the thought, pushes it away. "I think hunting would be perfect, mon chat, just take him out and show him the side that..." She hesitates, "That Roul and I nearly ruined."

"I remember," Desmond rumbles lowly to the first, his thoughtful expression lingering as she continues to speak. "Perhaps.. it would be a chance for he and I to know each other better. And that would be favorable. Still, that will not fill him, I think. Change he has, but perhaps that does not mean his interests have shifted too far. Consider and perhaps something will come to mind. Even with the change, you know him better than I. If something comes to me, I will share it with you."

Aimee nods slowly, giving him a look that promises reward for his attentions to her brother. "Oui, I think it would be a start, and give you two time to know each other, and perhaps, now, you will walk me home, mon chat?" She glances over her shoulder as she turns to walk away, putting deliberate sway in her hips. "I think, me, it is nap time."

Desmond's ears perk as she starts to move away, the clues something that won't be lost on him. "Of course, it would be my pleasure," he rumbles, quick to stride up to her side. Powerful and independent he may be in many ways, but the small, young woman still holds certain powers over him. He will seek to enwrap one of her hands in his for the trip. Ever gentle he can be, learning to better control his prowess. Tags: aimee, desmond, ragnar