"Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume & The Dandy)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: The Dandy on 29-06-2010, 09:09:39</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>"Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>29-06-2010, 09:09:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What are you looking at?"<br><br>Brock glared down as the human passed by him. The moment their eye's met he knew what the man was thinking: "Oh look! an Orc scoping out someones apartment! No doubt they're going to break in later." Anger slowly began to build filling the Orc's large frame as he towered above the bigot, powering the deep, breathy growl that seemed to come from deep inside the towering monster. Brock knew he would easily scare the man, he stood over him by at least three feet. Every since he had been young he had been a giant, back then he was a measly 5' 4" now he stood at a mighty 7' 11" tall. So what if he had become something of a bully? His kind had been part of this world for some time now and they still had not been accepted. A sadistic, intimidating smile began to spread across his face; to him this was a twisted form of reparations.<br><br>The man left without a peep, his feet seemed to fly out from under him as he scurried away from the large orc's growl.<br><br>A chuckle resonated from Brock as he watched the man do exactly as he wanted. This incident began to bring back memories, memories of the one human he had ever known that treated him as an equal. Graham. The boy that brought him here today, standing in front of a door way and creating a small scare in another dusty sprawl apartment. Brock switched on his comm as he continued the wait he had so eagerly started before; memories of those days were complicated and the last thing he needed to think about was pesky emotions. He had unfinished business and he was going to take care of it. Suddenly his view was flooded with imagery as the OS of his comm link began to run. 26 messages!? Was his life so busy that everyone needed him that badly. A fleshy thud resonated through the wall as he slammed his fist against it in frustration. He didn't like anyone taking up his time like this, yet for some reason he still felt compelled to do it.<br><br>"Where is he?" Brock slid his hands across beard and through his hair. He needed to relieve some tension
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>30-06-2010, 00:16:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Graham was no Shadowrunner. He was far too timid, too prone towards taking the safe, careful path through life. A good shadowrunner could practically cripple a city, if they wanted to. But for every one of them, a hundred others ended up dead, locked up, or worse. No, he preferred a quiet life suited to his twenty-four year old post-college self - working at a small coffeehouse uptown, saving up for the opportunity to further his education. But while he may have been no Shadowrunner, that did not mean that he was so incompetent as to not know that he was being followed, nor did it mean that he was going to let himself be bullied.&nbsp; For the past week, this Orc had been turning up in every aspect of his life - at his job, while he was out with friends, even while he was out grocery shopping. He didn't know what it was that the Orc wanted, and he didn't care to find out - he'd made several escapes already that were far too close for comfort. <br><br>He was currently standing in an alleyway, a few buildings down from his own, peering out from around a corner to watch the large figure currently lurking in front of his door. The creature was enormous, and highly intimidating, even by Orc standards. He seemed familiar, but Graham couldn't place him. Graham was no racist, and he harbored no ill will towards this person because he was an Orc - rather, he simply resented being stalked, and he especially resented someone trying to intimidate him. He reached down to his pocket, and gripped the telescopic baton therein. If worse came to worse, this baby would leave a nasty sting, and give him time to put some distance between them. He stepped out of the alley, onto the street. <br><br>He was a small guy, but not waifish - he had a rather average male build, with a little bit of padding on his chest and stomach, and a bit of muscle at his arms. 5'9, blond, with forest green eyes. He strode purposefully towards the Orc, trying to appear unfazed by the large male's presence in his doorway, trying to cover up his own mounting dread that this was about to go badly. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>03-07-2010, 10:40:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"So about that job, things seem to be a bi-"<br><br>Brock's hand shot into the pocket of his jeans. He had heard something he was sure of it, but it was hard to tell with all the chatter he was hearing in his emails. His fingers were clumsily shifting around his pocket, he was in a hurry to shut the damn machine off but the fabric was restricting his movement. The familiar glow of his browser disappeared in a flash as his vision returned to normal. It was disorienting, Brock had to blink a few times to make sure that his eyesight returned to normal. Shifting his weight on to his right foot he turned suddenly trying to find the source of the sound. Seemingly nothing had changed, the same bland people were walking around hurrying to their next waste of time. He was starting to resent cutting himself off from the net like that.<br><br>And then he saw him: the target, the objective.<br><br>"Well, Well, long time no see..." There was no mistaking him. Obviously he had grown into an adult since they last met but he always remembered that blond shine<br><br>The Orc stepped towards the man, looking down at him. His eyes looked down to the mans feet and slowly made their way up the man's body. He was scanning him and sizing him up; Brock wanted to know what changes he had gone through after so many years and why things turned out the way they did. His thoughts ran wild, filing in blanks as he created them and creating an elaborate history for Graham that was anything but true. It was amusing and Brock couldn't help but smile evilly at some of the outlandish things he was thinking.<br><br>Two large, tree trunks called arms rolled themselves forward as he crossed his them with each other. His shoulders rolled in and brought his pectorals together; the well sculpted outline could barely be seen through his plain black t-shirt. The Orc has practiced this movement many times before, in his line of work it was useful to show a little bit of muscle so that the client knew exactly what you were capable of. After doing this for so long it became habit and Brock greeted everyone this way. He was a man of simple style, he preferred his jeans and t-shirt so long as they fit just well enough as to hint at the large, muscular physique hiding underneath them. This simplicity was apparent everywhere, his dark black hair and beard were kept short and kept close to his head.<br><br>"So have a few stories for an old friend?" He said sarcastically, he was still upset about what had happened and he wanted to make sure Graham knew it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>03-07-2010, 16:33:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A popular sentiment, even in this day and age, was that "they all looked the same." Many humans had a hard time picking different Orcs from each other, and most didn't really care enough to try. It was a terrible thought, brought on by ignorance and a hefty dose of assumed racial superiority. But Graham did not have this problem. Up close, even after so long, he could immediately spot the Orc's wide, cut facial features - the way that his lips pursed just so - as they had done when they were children, and he was irritated. The exact shade of deep, forest green of his skin - uncommon, and admittedly rather eye-catching. He knew who this Orc was, and in a second many of his fears had melted away. And promptly been replaced by new, much more personal ones. <br><br>The hand in his pocket, around the baton, slackened, and slipped out to rest on his side. The hard, suspicious look he had carried left him, and was replaced by slightly uncomfortable wariness. It had been a long, long time since he'd seen this Orc. And they had shared a history. A history that made his stomach clench in guilt, and caused him to be unable to meet the Orc's eyes. <br><br>"Oh, Brock," he said simply, not being sure how exactly to continue the sentence. After the second question, which came too fast for him to continue the greeting, he pursed his lips, just slightly, in thought. "Heh, afraid not. You're, uh, looking well. How have . . . you been?" The almost perfunctory dialogue that he was giving felt cold, and ashy as it moved over his tongue. Truth be told, he didn't want to know how the Orc had been. Almost anything that the male could say, any misfortune that might have plagued him, one could easily trace back to Adrick. <br><br>And if that thought was so painful for him, imagine how it must have felt for the Orc. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>09-07-2010, 11:54:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brock could feel an itch creep onto the side of his face. His hand routinely raised to his face and slowly scratched at the annoyance as though he was meticulously take it apart. He had always gotten these small itches when he was got annoyed, Brock however continued to stare at the man unaware of his movements or his particular tick. It had been so long since they had seen each other and this was the response he got? Brock could feel a small outburst forming inside of his gut. The orc's eye's closed tightly as he focused on keeping his emotions down inside where they belonged.<br><br>"I'm doing great. I'm doing as well as anyone can after being tossed to the streets with little education to speak of. Betrayal is a cruel bitch" Brock's eye's shot open, focusing themselves on Grahams gaze which currently seemed to be focusing on anything but the Orc. Brock was doing an excelent job of keeping his anger in check but he still couldn't stop himself from adding a small dose of venom to his words. His words inflected strangely as he spoke with a mock happiness. Brock knew what he was doing and he enjoyed it immensely<br><br>"We have a lot to talk about. I'm sure your memory just needs a lil' jostle. You can't tell me there is nothing to talk about after all these years!" The most saccharine and fake smile spread across the orc's face. "But I don't think it's a good idea to talk about it here, let's go inside." The large, muscular arm of the orc swept out away from his chest and pointed firmly to Graham's apartment door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>09-07-2010, 16:19:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A small chill crept up Graham's spine. Standing here on the emptying city street, the sun just beginning it's slow, laborious crawl into the horizon, he could not think of a better time or place for this confrontation to occur. He had never expected to see the Orc again, but he had, he'd known that it was going to go down like this. That the Orc would hate him so fiercely that he might . . . but no matter how much guilt the young human had, it was not enough to trample down his sense of self-preservation. He could not let the Orc get alone with him. Not yet. And there was something else.<br><br>This word 'betrayal.'<br><br>Without a word, he sidled over to the doorway - for a second, looking like he was going to enter the code to let them into the building. Instead, he turned around and leaned against the door, facing the Orc, still not meeting his eyes. <br><br>"Why, Brock?" he began, unsure of how to proceed, "So you can have your revenge? So you can hurt me?" He pursed his lips. "I guess you'd be justified. I can't . . . I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am, for what happened. I-" But then he caught himself, and shook his head. "But I didn't . . . I didn't betray you. I was young. There was nothing I could do." Finally, for the first time, he looked up at the Orc. "But I guess that doesn't make a tremendous amount of difference, does it?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>13-07-2010, 09:47:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brock stared at Graham blankly, taking in everything that he had just said. His eyes blinking on cue as though they were computer parts analyzing each word and processing them through his brain. These thoughts overwhelmed the silence; the air seemed heavy and poisonous underneath it's weight. Though Brock would never had admitted to it he let out a short, barely audible gasp when Graham finished speaking and looked him in the eyes. Maybe the man did have something resembling a spine. As the last of Grahams words processed, the orc's eyes seemed to flicker with a bright flash of life. His meditative trance was broken.<br><br>"Well I am glad we can agree on one thing, it doesn't make a lot of difference." Brock's eye's began to furrow as he stared back at the man. "First thing I ever learned even when I was a little Orc was, you stay loyal to those you care for, no matter what. If you don't have the Hez to do it then you have business claiming you will. You could have said something. You could have found me and helped me. But you didn't. I stuck my neck out for you..." Brock froze mid-sentence, seemingly stuck in time as he remained motionless. Suddenly everything around him was annoying and awful. He wanted to lash out and destroy it all just so it would go away. His body was tense, it was craving and called to him to act. It was though every muscle was going to leap out of his body if he didn't.<br><br>He had rehearsed this over and over, but here he was going too far and getting himself angry. Brock took a long, deep breath filling every inch of his lungs and sucking the tension out of his body. A powerful sigh escaped the Orc's body, releasing the tension that he had been feeling into the world where it dispersed.<br><br>Brock placed one meaty hand on Graham's shoulder. His hand was every bit as big as he was and seemed to consume most of the mans shoulder. Slowly his grip on the shoulder began to tighten. There was still a small amount of tension left in Brock's body and so he was getting rid of it in the only way he knew. Brock was strong, even by Orc standards. He could feel the muscle bend around his fingertips as his hand clamped down.<br><br>"Am I going to hurt you? Naw...well ok, maybe a little. I just want to know why you betrayed me. You say you feel sorry but I ain't buying it. How about you start talking and if you are really convincing then I won't hurt you too badly. But the way everything seems right now...well things wouldn't be to great for you." The Orc stared as intensely as he could at the boy, his opened so wide that his gaze became somewhat comical and in an instant the unexpected happened, Brock began to laugh "I kid. I'm..." No. He could never admit to being hurt. "I just want to understand what happened. We used to be...tight. I want to understand everything and maybe fix a little of what's broken."<br><br>Even though the Orc was enjoying the guilty pleasure of hurting the man's shoulder he was telling the truth. He didn't want to hurt him in any real way. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>13-07-2010, 23:05:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Graham grit his teeth, but did not cry out, or whine, or make any sort of sound or motion at all to suggest that he'd noticed the burly hand squeezing down tightly, painfully on his shoulder. His eyes were hard, and his stance was as broad and as sturdy as he could make it. A silly gesture, perhaps, with the Orc standing over him, but certainly preferable to the alternative of caving and cowering under the threat of a little physical discomfort. He let the Orc speak, and when the man finished, he remained quiet for a moment. Then, after a moment's consideration, he struck. The Orc may have not been looking to hurt. But Graham . . . he was looking to wound, deep.<br><br>"What the hell are you talking about?" The word was said quietly, without venom or judgement or condescension. Just cold, unflinching disbelief. "We used to be 'tight?' 'Those you care for'? What the fuck are you talking about?" If the Orc's hand left his shoulder, he'd step forward, off of the wall. "You want to talk about the past? Fine. We can talk about the past. Because clearly, you need something cleared up for you." His eyes were hard, and there was a fire there. He'd been pushed around plenty in his life, usually as a result of who he chose to share his bed with. But by high school's end, he'd been hardened. It was what kept him from being pushed around - an aggressive, often painful need to stand on his own too feet, to never bend or give any ground. <br><br>"We weren't friends. You followed me around, because you thought I was someone you could pick on. You don't remember? All those times you pushed me around? Made fun of me. Gee, why is it not surprising that <em>you'd</em> conveniently forget. Well, I haven't." Graham didn't know Orcs. Didn't know how Orcish children tended to treat each other, versus human children. Perhaps if he had, some of this animosity might never have existed. But he didn't. And it did. And he kept going. "So one day some other kids decide to treat me just a little worse, and you step in to defend your - what? Your 'mark'? Your whipping post? And I'm supposed to get down on <em>my</em> knees and beg for <em>your</em> forgiveness?"<br><br>He rolled his shoulders. <br><br>"Fuck you," he spat, like the words tasted foul on his tongue. "I <em>am</em> sorry that your life sucked. Yeah, maybe I felt a little responsible at first. What happened to you was harsh, and I wished that I'd protested it. Said something, gotten you a lighter sentence. But if you're going to come around here and threaten me, then fuck you. I'm <em>through</em> feeling guilty. And I'm through feeling sorry for you." He didn't finish what he was thinking, but his eyes said it. They always did. "Thug."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>05-08-2010, 10:51:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Your kidding me."<br><br>The Orc froze as he was momentarily paralyzed by Grahams tirade was unleashed upon him. He wanted to speak but words began to escape him as he felt his mind become consumed with emotion, his anger and confusion escalated with every venomous word that he had heard. He was done trying to maintain control of himself, if Graham wanted to explode and go to war then Brock would show him war. His eyes were aflame as his body finally snapped back into action, free from the bonds holding him back.<br><br>"So what was all that about feeling bad for fucking over my life huh? Funny that this all come out now huh? Yeah, we were friends once and I thought we still were." The Orc's voice began to escalate, his words pouring forward like a tidal wave. "But at least I never was a two-faced liar! You never mentioned anything back in those days, how I was supposed to know you were hurt!? I thought you were some thick-skinned kid, tough enough to walk with the orcs when no one else would. Turns out I was wrong..." Brock paused and closed his eyes, taking one deep breath as he cut loose and unleashed every pent up emotion. His voice now booming like an earthquake as he yelled at the boy, he didn't care if anyone heard what he was saying. "But it turns out you're a no good coward, hiding, trying to finally man up when an old acquaintance meet's with him as a friend. A friend! You think you're fucking tough!? You know, it's funny, you're angry when I helped you but here I come trying to be mature about the aftermath and here I get yelled at!"<br><br>Brock reared back his arm, slamming his fist into the wall near Graham. Pain shot through his knuckles deep down into his arm but he didn't care, he was pissed. "So you know what? Fuck you! The threats were a joke! But leave it to you to be a tight ass and take everything so seriously. Live a little. Why don't you try living like us? Or would that require you to stop living off others first? If you're so tough then show me but all I see is a two-faced coward who likes riding on the backs of others." The Orc looked deep into the man's eyes awaiting a response, his body alive, vibrant and just waiting for what was next.<br><br>Brock had been speaking whatever came to his mind, he didn't mean most of it but now he didn't care. The truth was irrelevant, as long he caused pain we was satisfied. The Orc turned around and began to walk away "You know what? Forget what I said, this is all pointless. I don't give a fuck anymore."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>12-08-2010, 00:34:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adrick felt deflated. All the fire in his belly, the venom that rolled out of him naturally, and freely . . . all of it was gone, now, and he just felt kind of numb. The Orc's 'bad-ass shadowrunner' persona had completely broken down. And the Orc raged back at him with just as much fire, wounds split just as deep as the ones that Adrick carried. Seeing the Orc punch the wall, seeing the expression in his face - it took something out of him. Made him feel vulnerable, and raw. <br><br>He didn't know if the Orc was telling the truth. About everything being a joke. He had his doubts. He gathered that the Orc did, as well. He glanced at the spot where the Orc had punched the wall. It was cracked. The Orc could have pulped his head, if he'd had half a mind. But he hadn't. There was a smear of blood, where the Orc had injured his hand. Before the big male could even get off the steps, Adrick was stepping forward, reaching out to catch his hand, gingerly. <br><br>"Hey," he said quietly, unable to meet the Orc's eyes, "hold on a second. You need to patch that up."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>17-08-2010, 10:29:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What? You suddenly care now?" Brock sardonically snarled back at him, though he was honestly shocked the way he was being looked at just now made it hard for him to remain angry. It was as though it was sucking the air from his body and putting out the fire coursing through his body. He didn't like it it but he'd see where this would go. <br><br>"Should be alright, but if you insist..."<br><br>Brock was good at his work, this wasn't the first time that he had punched something hard, but he usually had a purpose when he did. The pointless angry he had shown when he let everything out seemed to make it ache just a little bit worse than it had ought to. It wasn't all that bad though, nothing a quick beer and a quick smoke wouldn't fix.<br><br>Everything felt awkward now, Brock couldn't help but look at the ground as the man gingerly approached him and reached for his hand. He felt ashamed by getting upset like that, it was unprofessional and unfair. It didn't prove anything if you picked on someone half your size and that pesky attraction he felt just made everything worse. The way his skin seemed to tingle when he got close made him feel like the cheap villain in a five buck novel.<br><br>"Lead the way. I guess" he said clumsily, feeling very uncomfortable with the way things progressed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>17-08-2010, 23:40:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Graham didn't know what had compelled him to do it. It was a strange, immediate reaction - a sudden burst of concern that had welled up and diminished with equal speed. The Orc's knuckles were a bit torn up, but it was a small, insignificant wound for someone in his line of work. Still, it was enough to set off some latent nurturing instinct that Graham wasn't aware he had. Releasing the hand, and saying nothing, he turned and punched the code to open the door, and led the Orc inside. Down a hall, and up a short flight of stares, to his apartment on the second floor. It was nothing special - a cheap place, befitting a poor young adult. He decorated sparingly, preferring a more spartan existence for himself, at least at this point. He stood aside, to let the Orc past him. <br><br>In the corner was a large, king-size bed. In the center, a coffee table, a couch, and a decently sized television. Attached kitchenette, with laundry and bathroom in separate rooms on opposite sides of the main living area. Graham gestured at the couch. <br><br>"Go ahead and sit," he said, before moving into the bathroom - coming back with some bandages and a bottle of antiseptic spray. He sat down in front of the Orc, unable to meet his eye. "This is probably going to sting a bit," he said softly, angling the bottle at the wound and spraying it lightly - once, twice. As he dabbed away the excess fluids with a paper towel, he cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said, simply, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. He began to bandage the Orc gently, feeling those rough fingers brush over the back of his palm. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 09:33:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sitting there on that plain little couch was much less strange than Brock thought it would be. He liked his home spartan and while most people would have been aghast, Brock felt like he was right at home. That was normal. What made everything weird was the way he was sitting here while the man across from him tended to a minor scrape on his hand. It didn't feel right having him sit in front of him like this, even if Brock could feel the back of his mind flicker with dirty thoughts.<br><br>Brock was staring at the man with solid steel concentration, blocking out the world around him with the thoughts in his head. All that he could notice was the space between him and graham. This was his universe a couch and few feet between him and Graham. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a whisper about something stinging. Brock didn't even notice a sting.<br><br>"I don't think I'll need all this." he said, pulling his half-bandaged hand away from the man. His words sounded hollow as though we was speaking to some imaginary person sitting in the room. Brock kneeled forward and wraped the fingers of his bandaged hand behind Graham's neck. His rough fingers sliding down the back of his neck, barely touching the man's skin.<br><br>"Thanks. For everything, including the apology. I can accept that. I just want to know...why?" Graham would know the explanation he was looking for. Why didn't he stand up for the orc all those years ago? Something had taken control of Brock for this short period of time, calming the beast that normally ran wild inside him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 17:51:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Graham felt his shoulders tense up, his back straightening a bit as the Orc's hand touched him. It was an intimate touch, far more intimate than he would have allowed most anyone. But for some reason, in that moment, it seemed appropriate that the Orc would be allowed to touch him. So much history, and bad blood - he didn't want to rebuff the contact. It was almost . . . cathartic. A real, physical feeling of forgiveness. The Orc's hand was warm. He dropped his gaze away, unable to meet the Orc's eyes.<br><br>His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. He swallowed, nodded, then tried again - his voice tremulous. "I was young? Angry. Scared. Stupid. There was just . . . a lot of static, between you and me. A lot of things that didn't come through right. I'm sorry. I know that . . . that it doesn't make it right. I'm so, so sorry." He closed his eyes. What else could you say? He had wronged the Orc greatly. Changed the entire course of his life, in one simple moment of non-action. What the hell were you supposed to say?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 21:21:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brock felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders when he heard those words. Brock had been waiting to hear those words for so long at begun to physically hold his body down. A feeling unknown to the Orc, one of warmth spread throughout the Orc's body, reinvigorating him. The Orc leaned back on the couch, expelling all of the excess weight in one big sigh. It felt good.<br><br>It also felt awful. Brock didn't like emotional situations like this, when he was living on the hard streets of Seattle he had learned to toughen up quick. You took time to cry, you took time to die. It was like he was trying to use some forgotten muscle that had been atrophied from lack of use. Brock's eyes shot about across the room as though he was literally looking for something to say to diffuse the situation. Nothing came to mind.<br><br>Brock posted himself on the couch, quickly pushing himself back up to his feet. As he began to walk over to the kitchen he looked at Graham, smirking wildly with his normal arrogance. It was the look Brock would have given himself if he was looking into a mirror. If he couldn't say something he would pretend like nothing happened.<br><br>"I'm so glad to hear that now! You have no idea how much that means to me! We can put it all behind us now!" he said as though it was easy to just forget something like that. "Say...do you got any beer? You look a little pussy but I think you at least got that right?" The Orc obviously teased, as he did with all small humans. He spoke with a slight tremor, betraying the nervousness that the emotional moment had placed in him.<br><br>"It's cause to celebrate! Let's wreck shit!" Brock felt so out of his element.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 22:15:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Graham raised an eyebrow. The Orc was moving about his apartment, smiling like nothing had ever happened. It was not that difficult to dissect his tactics, in that moment. He was trying to diffuse, trying to dissipate all the tension in the room. It would not be so easy. That tension had had years to build. It was comfortable, and it wasn't going anywhere. He straightened himself up, and watched the Orc move towards the little kitchenette, his own face unreadable - somewhere between bemusement, and apprehension. He leaned back in his seat. <br><br>"I don't have any, actually. Sorry - allergic to hops." He pulled his legs up, and crossed them beneath himself. "Can I uh . . . get you anything else? I just . . . I feel like I should do something. To make it right." It was a ridiculous notion. He had no idea what he could do, and even less of an idea of how he'd go about doing it. <br><br>Now it was his turn to stand. Not with any express intent, but he was having a hard time just sitting still. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 08:26:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Do something about it? Ehhh, don't worry about it. You said you were sorry right? Can't believe you don't have booze though..."<br><br>Brock's voice trailed off as he watched the man get out of his seat, there was a little tension in the air, with everything laid bare before them there didn't really seem like there was much to say. Brock edged towards Graham, his stocks called feet dragging heavily along the ground. No matter how hard Brock tried to come up with something to say nothing would come. It was as though all thoughts had been sucked out of his body. Brock's stomach interrupted his lack of thinking with a deep growl. When Brock had decided to travel down to Grahams apartment he was in such a hurry that he forgot to eat.<br><br>"Well, I guess I am pretty hungry...." That wasn't what Brock really wanted to say but that was the first thing to come to his mind. He was going to have to wait for the fire to start burning in his belly again before he would make good on his intentions. He had come too far to let this be the end of their problems.<br><br>"Why don't we just catch up and see what happens eh? It's been too long"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Tsume</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 15:38:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh. Yeah, sure. What're you in the mood for? I can order in, or make something, or .&nbsp; . .?"<br><br>He didn't finish the sentence, as he moved past Brock, his arm brushing against the Orc's own, tree-trunk thick one as he moved into the kitchen, to open up his pantry. A few things of instant pasta, a can of ravioli, some rice, and various other assorted things. Nothing really to make a proper meal out of. He knew that he had a couple of ready-made dinners in the freezer, and some vegetables in the fridge. His mind was whirring, wondering if he could actually make anything proper out of it. He hoped that the Orc said take-out. It would make this process much easier. <br><br>He turned, and bumped into the Orc, who had since moved into the kitchenette out of him. The large male was warm. He'd forgotten how warm. When they were kids, Brock had liked to pick him up in a tight bear hug. It had been tight, and it had hurt. Graham had always assumed it was intended as some kind of torment. Now . . . well, now the thought brought a small smile to his face. And another pang of guilt. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the runt..." (Tsume &amp; The Dandy)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>The Dandy</strong> on <strong>03-09-2010, 11:05:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Doesn't matter to me really..." To Brock there was only one kind of food and that was, well, food. He had lived on the streets for so long and struggled that getting food from any source filled him and made him happy. Even after becoming a Shadowrunner and beginning to make real money he still continued to eat like the poor boy he had always been. Distinctions like ordering in, home made or going out meant nothing to him.<br><br>"Where do you think you're going?" The Orc joked as he tried to emulate the way he sounded as a kid. He wasn't doing too well as the large amount of bass his voice had as an adult prevented his voice from doing anything but booming. The high-pitched wine of a kid was beyond his capability. Brock realized this, letting out a small but heart filled chuckle as he took notice of how funny he had sounded. "I think I followed that with this..."<br><br>Brock's knees bent as he leaned down and picked the man up in a tight bear hug. Even now he lifted Graham with no effort. He was feeling sentimental and he could feel his eyes get extra moist as he felt the human's soft body pressed against the hard pillar of muscle Brock's body had become. The nostalgia warmed the insides of his body and lifted the sides of his mouth into an uncontrollable smile. Erratically his mouth seemed to twitch as Brock tried desperately to get rid of the smile, he was supposed to be hard not nice.<br><br>Brock set the man walked off once again, this time returning to the living room he had been just moments before. Coughing like actor preparing for a role Brock wryly turned his head and asked in his usual bass filled voice: "Mind if I make myself at home?"
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>