prohibitions | When love became an act of defiance

The more Abel speaks, the slow twitch of a brow furrow crosses his features in confusion, careful not to let it really be known from him. The other's choice of words almost make it sound like he knew his true intentions but surely that wasn't possible, right?

A hedge maze would be a perfect location, the perfect time, like he said, it was easy to make the hit and disappear with no one really noticing and being long gone by the time they realize something was amiss. He can't help but feel alarmed by the possibility of his cover being blown so quickly. It just reinforces his self-doubt that he really wasn't cut out for assassination roles. Hearing the other laugh about it though, that throws him for a loop.

Jonathan almost wants to reach out for Abel's wrist to stop him as he crosses in front of him but he's frozen in place. Until the other tells him to follow or risk being lost to wonder the maze, which wouldn't really be possible when he can backtrack but he doesn't test his luck with that.

Turning heel to closely follow behind Abel as he leads them further in like it was the most routine thing to do, his thoughts an obvious jumbled mess now.

Abel lets out an airy laugh as he continues to walk through the maze. "Oh don't be so glum. No one else would have figured it out, honestly."

They make it to the heart of the maze. It opens up to a clearing with some intricate pond designs that surround a gazebo. He waves his hand lazily and lights the place up. It was rather beautiful.

He casually makes his way to sit at the gazebo, resting his chin on his hand before smiling. "It isn't as though my family's enemies could tell you that I can read minds. It really isn't your fault or theirs even. It's a very well kept secret." The smile turns more into a smirk; though there isn't any amusement in his eyes. As though that he didn't care about any of this at all despite his life apparently was in danger.

Somehow, he finds some reassurance in Cain's words as he follows him deeper into the maze. Jonathan hangs back for a moment before Cain illuminated the area as if taking in the sight before he made his way over to one of the ponds in Cain's line of sight and plopped himself on the ground. This was just a mess.

"I was really left in the dark with that one. On both sides, really. Its my fault for not asking about the possible powers for mages but I guess, its sort of limitless with your lot." He lets out a huff as he stared up at the night sky, "You know everything by now, so there's no real use in repeating any of it but this sort of thing is usually not in my job description." He turns his head towards Cain's direction, a pause.

"If you don't mind me asking though, what benefit does someone have in talking out someone like you from the board?" He asks. High society dealings and feuds were out of his area of expertise. He wasn't raised in such a class and he only listened to their conversations and observed their interactions when he was working. It was an entirely different world than what he was used to on a day to day basis.

He lets out a yawn. Honestly, Abel was tired. Socializing took quite a toll on him and he was exhausted. His headache was getting worse and he knew his control was starting to slip slightly. He isn't sure why his father always pushes him to entertain guests the entire time. The man knew that he was essentially a ticking time bomb, but whatever. He imagines his father just did it because he was too unruly towards him.

"Even if you asked, it wouldn't have mattered. Being psychic isn't a common skill even for mages. It's not even something that's really passed down through blood. Completely irregular and unique. It merely manifests in particularly gifted individuals. The same for seers and being able to see the future. My mother was born with it as I was born with my own gift. Nothing in her bloodline had shown any sign of it, but she is considered the most celebrated seer of England," Abel explains. "I'm particularly gifted, but I won't bore you with the dreary details." He also hated his "gift" and was more than happy to avoid utilizing any of it if he could avoid it.

Abel takes a drag from his cigarette before speaking again. "Purebloods do love to squabble I suppose. My family is the most influential and powerful on this side of the pond. They wish to cripple that." He was all too aware about the inner workings of pureblood society. The underhanded and dark dealings involved with the power struggles between families. "If I were to marry with another prestigious family; it would be very troublesome for those that oppose my father. Even more so that if I were to have a child."

He shrugs though. "They're really missing their mark there though. Women really don't do it for me."

He perks up at the new wave of information, propping himself onto his elbows as he tilted his head back a bit, brows furrowed. It was almost like the winning the magical lottery, so to speak. When Cain mentions his mother and her reputation, it sparks a thought. "If your mother is such a celebrated seer, surely she must've seen this and its outcome?"

Jonathan is still clueless on such matters, noting that after this assignment, whatever its conclusion, he should spend time researching on anything he can find. He wasn't one to question assignments and the rare occasions that they held a target; keeping his line of work strictly on a need to know basis. It limited the risks if he was ever caught and questioned, though there was a certain level of procedure to follow if it ever came to that.

As Cain speaks again, he listens. It seemed like a never ending chess game by the sound of it. Purebloods hitting blows to each other that could either weaken their stance or strengthen it and with Remington family, it could be a rather effective blow if successful. A family's legacy seemed to be very important to these sort of people.

And it all rested on whether he followed through on orders.

Jonathan sits up fully, "If you were forced to marry, your father would force that sort of thing with little regard to you, right?" Arranged marriages and forcing a kid from such a union all for the sake of potential didn't sit well with him. If anything it made him feel for Cain's situation.

Abel shrugs a little at that. "The thing about seers is that nothing she will do will change the outcome. She can see the future, not change it. I already know she outlives me," Abel replies. He knew that his life was going to be tragic with the way she looks so sadly at him. He just wasn't curious enough about it to ask the exacts, nor did he think she would tell him. "But I don't expect you to kill me tonight." It's said without a doubt in his mind.

He wouldn't be dying tonight.

"Yes, but that man is so much of a perfectionist that I can't imagine him finding a suitable woman for me to marry. It's not as though I'm going to be his heir or have a son that will be a heir to follow me. My brother is fairly healthy and is married." And his father had currently not been impressed by anyone to match Abel. Though, there's something rather disgusting at the idea that the only thing that mattered was that she could offer good genes for a truly gifted child.

Abel speaks of his father almost like a stranger and not as his parent. He seemed much fonder in tone when he spoke about his mother.

Perhaps it was his naive way of thinking, that somehow Abel would change his fate had he known what was coming to him but then he realizes it would just be some endless loop until someone actually completed the job and ended his life for whatever personal gain could be had.

"What makes you say that?" There's a curious tilt of his head, almost like he wanted to prove Abel wrong. He knows the consequences of not completing an assignment; a lecture by the world's most unpleasant boss and whatever punishment he can possibly cook up for the fun of it. But there was the matter of Abel's ability to read his thoughts as well as ones he didn't know about and there was no way to hide from the other his choice of killing him tonight or not.

Abel already knows what he was going to do.

Jonathan moves to his feet, brushing off bits of dirt from his clothes, "I mean no disrespect but your father sounds like an ass." In his mind, if he had been his father's position and from what it sounds like, he would aim for the perfectly gifted woman to pair with Abel because the results of such a union would only boost the family name, he guesses. Anything to stay above everyone else, right?

"Is your brother just as gifted as you or did you draw the short straw for that one?" He says as he slowly makes his way towards the gazebo Abel was sitting under.

"My mother would not look so distraught," Abel replies. The way she looks at him or the days where she can't even look at him. "I can only assume that whatever happens to me is terribly tragic. Assassinations is not unheard of and fairly common." While saddening, their family has had plenty of familial deaths. Cousins and such. He doesn't make guesses as to the how. He doesn't need to really consider those things. "Me dying in our garden maze at night because I wandered off isn't tragic. Just idiotic." Well, idiotic for most others. Abel doesn't really feel like he's in danger.

He laughs though. "Well, you aren't wrong. That man is a right awful being." He waves his hand dismissively. Whatever insults are thrown at his father, he thinks is warranted.

"My brother would be a suitable heir that many would look proudly upon. He's adored," Abel replies. He takes a drag from his cigarette. "I could run circles around him magic wise though."

What Jonathan is getting from this conversation thus far is, Abel's mother has long come to terms with her son's fate and his father could likely care less what happens to Abel as long as he was kept on his leash. It does have him wondering if anyone has ever placed a hit on the man himself or did they want to watch the man slowly falter by kicking all the pieces from under him?

There's a small huff that leaves him. Never really putting into perspective how much of a dog eat dog world for the rich and powerful it was. He shouldn't be so surprised by it though. With the hefty price tags that come with the professionals in that division, he wouldn't expect less than perfection if he was a paying client.

It really was a shame that he got picked instead. Buyer's fault there if he's honest.

He can't imagine assassinations being the norm in someone's life though. It made it seem like a ticking time bomb of a life, like any second could be one's last. A near constant need to keep an eye over one's shoulder.

"Let me guess, your father prefers the adored son and wishes he was just as gifted as you because it would make everything so much easier for him, wouldn't it?" He doesn't know why he's even asking when he can already guess the answer. Abel's brother likely would hit every check mark a father like his would want except for one.

Jonathan takes a seat next to Abel, leaving a reasonable amount of space between them. Quiet for longer than he has been thus far, "If I did kill you tonight, would you prefer it to be as quick and painless as possible or agonizingly slow?" He asks as he stares at his own hands. He's never given anyone the option before and likely would never again. He's simply curious as to which one would be picked.

"I'm quite fond of my brother," Abel replies. "He's easy to get along with. Terribly good team player and attracts people. In a good way. It's nothing against me in that regard, actually. Consider it like how royalty was. The first born is the one who takes the throne if the king dies. It's about the same in these social circles. My father put all his chips on my brother because he is the eldest and the one who would be succeeding him if he were to die." He speaks of the matter in almost a detached manner. It was just pureblood politics. "He changed his tune merely because I suddenly offered something new. "

A natural and powerful psychic. Abel was a rarity and one that offered a lot when it came to power and politics.

A game that Abel had no interest in being part of, but was basically dragged into it anyways. "He has the best of both worlds. His favored son is safe, after all. He's painted the target on my back." Which really just meant that Abel has only ever gotten the shortest end of the stick.

He doesn't answer the other for a moment before he gets up and tosses his cigarette; putting it out under his shoe. "It doesn't matter to me, actually. Quick and painless is probably convenient. There is nothing you could do that I would think as agonizingly slow though." There's something very unsettling about such a comment if one thought about it. For Abel though, life had been nothing but that, so a death like it would be no different he thinks.

Ah. Jonathan doesn't comment in return on the matter, choosing to stay silent as he processed everything and filling in any blanks. He is taken aback by Abel's response to his options though.

It takes him a moment to process the comment fully. Making it sound like he would welcome death with open arms and that was certainly a first for him. He gets up from his spot, reaching for Abel's wrist. His grip tight, almost bone-breaking as he stared at him with pain in his expression.

"Killing you here would be a mercy and you know I'm not going to but I also can't leave without leaving a mark that I tried." Abel can probably feel the beginnings of claws digging through the fabric of his dress shirt and eventually into the skin. "It may only buy you a day or a week or even a month. It may not be me the second time and maybe they will give you the quickest option... maybe not."

His cover was blown so he can't imagine he'd be sent back. "I can lie on the report... that you got away." He lets out a deep sigh, it would certainly be easy to play off thanks to the minuscule amount of information from the client.

"This is going to hurt and I apologize in advance for it..." Jonathan makes a quick twisting sort of motion that breaks the bone. Before he lets go of the other's wrist, he drags his claws around, ruining a portion of Abel's shirt further and giving a set of wounds that would be deep enough to make it look like the other pulled away to escape.

"I wish you a better life, Abel Remington. If its not in this life, I do hope its in the next. You truly deserve better." There's a sad smile as he finally lets go of the other's wrist, offering him a handkerchief from inside his jacket as if it would help with the bleeding before he started to walk away from him and the gazebo.

Abel grits his teeth and there's a choked sound of pain that accompanies the sound of bones breaking. Despite that, he's surprisingly quiet about the whole ordeal. Either Abel had incredibly high pain tolerance or he merely had trained himself to be quiet.

The quiet laugh that comes out of his mouth is mixed with pain and almost seems hysterical. As though the other had said something genuinely hilarious. "Deserve better? What naive and pure words to offer to your kill target you know." Abel had accepted the cards he had been dealt long ago. The world of the elite was far different than the average rift raft. It really wasn't about what people deserved, he thinks. Just the lengths people were willing to take to get what they want.

Though- "Wait. Why don't you play a game with me? It'll keep me entertained in the interim. He rubs his fingertips of his good hand against the material of the handkerchief. Not using it for why it was offered, but most likely just to ignore the pain in his wrist.

"I like games. A bit of cat and mouse and I see no reason why it wouldn't benefit you. You manage to catch me unawares and you can kill me. No strings attached. Limitless attempts. You win in the end." Was Abel really just offering his life up to a game he'd ultimately lose? Absolutely. "You're positively fascinating, so I would appreciate your company for a little longer." Abel, after all, was still an aristocrat by all means and so the world outside his bubble was still something he knew very little of.

He wanted to understand why the other seemed to pity him. Sympathize. It was queer. Odd. He had no reason to feel for him, yet he did. He could taste it on his tongue. Hear it in his words. His brother also showed compassion to him, but that was his brother. Why would a stranger who was hired to kill him offer it without rhyme or reason?

Normally, when he breaks someone's bones, whether on purpose or on accident, they scream out in pain, maybe thrash around to get away from him. And yet, Abel is on the quieter side and for that reason it leaves a red flag in the back of Jonathan's mind. That there might be more to his father's leash than what he was told.

Doing an assassin's job was never in his blood. People always told him he cared too much and too easily. Being a natural predator by nature, he should have the drive but he could never have the detachment of emotion that he's seen people have in this specific line of work. Clenching his fists for a brief moment before relaxing his grip was a near reply to the other's words.

Jonathan hesitantly stops in his tracks as Abel tells him to wait, not expecting to be stopped after just breaking the other's wrist and wounding him for borrowed time. He slowly turns to face him and the longer Abel proposes his game, the more he finds it a little hard to believe.

How was he supposed to catch a psychic off guard enough to get close? He doesn't see how he could possibly win. Yes, it offered the benefit that the job would be done but surely the other must be joking.

"You can't be serious? You want to gamble your life on basically a game of red light green light?" He shook his head in disbelief, trying to wrap his thoughts around this. Jonathan knew if he accepted this little game that it wouldn't be easy to win.

His thoughts were too loud and he could very easily see himself getting frustrated with this after some time despite the limitless attempts. He doesn't have anything to lose by playing so why shouldn't he take it?

Jonathan stares at the ground at his feet, silent before he speaks again with a sad little huff of a defeated laugh, an almost sad smile, "If I win, you'll give me the chance to kill you despite trying to spare your life?" Lifting his head, its seems like he's searching Abel's expression for an answer that he already knows before he simply sighs, "Fine... I'll bite. Where do you want me to start from?"

There needed to be some distance between them for this to work properly, he's just not sure how much.

Abel can't help but laugh. The other was so surprised. Incredulous that he would offer such a ridiculous proposition. "No, no. A game of cat and mouse. Red light green light is far less exciting and I would like to make at least the next few days somewhat entertaining.

He merely makes his way over to the other to place his good hand against Jonathan's cheek. "We'll just pretend you saved me. It'll put you in my father's good graces and it'll confuse your contractor who could possibly have tried to take me out simultaneously, but ultimately an in into my household would surely benefit them." It was like a game of chess. Carefully laying out all your pieces onto the board and making careful decisions to get that checkmate.

Though, they both knew that Abel was playing a long game that would eventually lose.

"You catch me unawares at some point and you'll get to kill me. No string attached. I am a man of my word," Abel says casually.

Perhaps he should be more caring about his life, but it has always been presented to him as something more expendable. it was less something precious and more like a piece that his father played on his own board. And really, this meant he got to at least have some fun while eventually ruining his father's plans to some extent.

"Certainly, that sounds like a bit of fun. Don't you think? There's still a few hours left of the party and it would be unfortunate if you had to leave early because you attempted to see me dead," Abel says with a small smile.

It seems this was meant to be a days-long affair instead of a game he originally thought was to be concluded before the party ended. His comparison of red light green light was also wrong; thinking if he got caught by the other, he'd simply be told to start again from a set point, which lined up more with his first thought than anything.

Jonathan can't help but lean a little against Abel's touch, even if the action itself surprises him. Dropping his gaze, he can see the benefits of this playing out, it wouldn't necessarily blow his cover to anyone else other than Abel which works in his favor. Technically giving him a second chance and as the other had pointed out, it would throw his contractor for a loop.

"What will be our story then?" He asks, surely, someone will question as to what attacked Abel in order for their cover to be that Jonathan saved him.

He trusts that Abel will keep his word. He has no reason to doubt that he wouldn't.

"I think you'll get more fun out of it than me..." Jonathan gives a little shake of his head with a smile all the same. He still feels bad for breaking the other's wrist even more now. "Here..." He shrugs off his suit jacket before draping it over his arm, unbuttoning the sleeve buttons on his free arm before tearing the fabric.

It would look better than Abel's half attempt to use the handkerchief and would be less of a scene for everyone to try to see. He's gentle when he rolls the shredded fabric of Abel's shirt above the wounds before tying the fabric around it. Blood already straining once pristine white. A temporary fix until they get Abel properly tended to.

Edited (Lol i forgot to pick an icon like a scrub) 2019-12-29 13:39 (UTC)

"I was attacked by an unknown assailant while wandering the maze," Abel replies. "I come here often on my own that it wouldn't be so odd for me to had. You happen to notice my disappearance from the party and sought me out and was my savior from them. My father will certainly be pleased and likely to think you suitable to keep an eye on me. People will talk about who would have sent someone after me for days. It'll certainly be entertaining to see everyone question each other." At least, he'll find it amusing to hear the whispers going about.

Abel lets his hand drop and watches the other try and help with his injuries. How odd.

Why the other puts so much care into this all. The man was very curious indeed. So gentle. Kind. It puzzles him.

He tries not to think about it and starts leading the other back out of the garden maze. "You'll have to carry me back in to make it more convincing, but seeing as you broke my wrist so easily-" He doesn't think it'll be that much of an issue.

The cover story felt pretty sound to him. If his contactor was a part of the social circle that was regularly invited to these events, which he believes they are, Abel would put a face to a thought. He, of course, has never met the person who ordered the hit so he hasn't been able to track them by scent as he might've.

It was a bit of a client protection measure for the organization in which he was employed.

He pulls his jacket back on, hiding the torn sleeve as he adjusts it and follows alongside Abel on his good side through the maze. Jonathan can guess that the other would practically weigh as much as a bag of feathers which wouldn't be too difficult to carry, "That wouldn't be a problem."

"Sorry... again for breaking your wrist. I..." He pauses, keeping his gaze down at the ground as he walks, "I honestly wasn't expecting you to wager a game. I was rather hoping you would've just let me disappear into the night never to be seen again." Had he known, he wouldn't have wished unnecessary suffering onto the other and the inconvenience it caused as a result.

He didn't have much interest in who was putting a target on him. It wasn't as though he lacked enemies, so it really wasn't all that concerning to him.

Abel does laugh though. Jonathan really wasn't fit to be doing this in the first place. Apologizing for breaking his wrist? Really. He was supposed to kill him. How silly. "Where would the fun be in that if I just let you off. I've been terribly bored so this will occupy my time for a bit. Besides, I've had worse in terms of injuries. This is really nothing. Though, if you are so apologetic-" Abel stops for a moment before yanking the other forward by the front of his shirt to press his mouth against Jonathan's. "I'll take that as payment."

Jonathan perks his head up at the mention of worse injuries. What could a sheltered mage be hurt worse from? There was the mention as assassinations before but that wouldn't be the case, otherwise, Abel would've been taken care of by now. None of this was really adding up and he's dragged out of his thoughts so suddenly.

He wasn't expecting to stop nor was he expecting the other to kiss him in the same swoop either. He's wide-eyed and momentarily stunned when Abel pulls away, almost like he's trying to process what just happened. There's a brief second before his body automatically moves on its own, cupping Abel's face and kisses him again, this time longer than the first.

There's a small smirk when he pulls away, "I think that is more worthy compensation."

It's only a mask of confidence that falls as soon as he turns away and continues down the path, too flustered to look at the other again. To which the other can probably hear the whirlwind of thoughts and taste the emotions dripping off of him.

Jonathan makes a note to never take a job like this again. To let a target live and to be kissed by them, let alone reciprocating was not the best route to take. This wasn't how this was supposed to go.

There's almost a sad look in Abel's eyes as he reads the other like a book. Jonathan's curiosity about previous injuries and experiences. He's pretty sure that they would have done better as a protector than a killer and he wonders if Jonathan was even trained for assassination. Their movements just seemed a tad too sloppy to be trained specifically for it.

Ah well.

He thinks that's not terrible. A man so gentle like the other has no need to dirty his hands in such a way. Abel is sure their game will end with him just letting the other off. He doesn't think Jonathan needs his blood on his hands. Or his conscience for that matter.

Abel is presently surprised when the other kisses him back. He hadn't expected the other to actually return the gesture. He certainly isn't complaining. His grin almost softens a bit. Ah, it's so easy to tease someone like Jonathan.

He walks with the other until they get to the beginning of the maze all over again. The sounds of the party can be easier to hear and the mansion was masked in darkness other than for all the lights in each window shining through. "Well, let's give them a good show, yes?"

If Abel ever asked, he would say that he wasn't. He knows assassins, knows they treat their specialty like a dance and had one of them been sent in his stead, they would've finished this charade in less than ten moves with less emotional involvement than he.

Either way, it's too late to dwell on such thoughts.

Jonathan stares up at the mansion before shifting his attention to Abel, "Yes but before we go in..." He turns fully to face the other, ruffling his hair a bit and messing with his clothes. If their story was that an unknown assailant attacked Abel in the maze, he should look the part a bit better. His only injury was his wrist while he still looked otherwise untouched.

He tilts his head once he was done, "That should do it." Scooping up the other was easy, walking back into the main dining hall where Abel had first walked out of was more attention than he bargained for. A hush practically fell over the room before hushed whispers of speculation followed.

He wasn't quite sure what to do besides keep walking further into the space, had Abel's injuries been a little than a broken wrist, he likely would've played the role a bit more dramatically. Called out for help immediately, made a much more ridiculous scene. It wasn't long before people had surrounded the two of them, more guards than anything, besides one who demanded answers for what transpired.

Abel plays the role of an injured man quite well. Everyone seems to coo over him as he moans in pain. He isn't melodramatic about it either. Just enough that one would think he was in serious, grave danger.

Everyone seems to take his story well. Getting some fresh air and being attacked so suddenly. Being saved by Jonathan and brought back to safety. It's eaten up so easily and before they know it, Jonathan will find himself in Abel's room where the man was told to be brought to for bed rest.

His injuries had been healed, though he opens and closes his hands and spins his wrist a bit with a wince. Healing was never the issue, but it was the recovery of broken bones that was always a pain.

Still, he drops his hands into his lap before looking at Jonathan with a smirk. "I look forward to our game."

Jonathan is glad to finally leave the crowd that had surrounded them, giving a slow glance back as his guided to taking Abel to his room. He's used to the sound of the overwhelming white noise of people talking over each other but this... this was more than he was expecting. After being told to set the other on the bed, he makes it a point to stand off to the side and out of the way.

He watches as Abel's wounds are healed including his broken wrist and he's told to stay in the room until his father was ready to speak with him specifically. Probably something to do with saving his son's life which Abel already predicted would happen.

"I think that makes one of us," Jonathan repeats with a playful enough smile as he crosses his arms. He obviously wouldn't be able to catch the other unawares tonight but it doesn't stop him from thinking about it. How to catch unsuspecting enough to get close. To win this.

"I know you said this was a game with unlimited chances to catch you unaware... surely you would have ruled in the potential of me just waiting for you to wake up again and using that as an opportunity, right?" He knows he wouldn't. What good would that be for Abel's fun? Though he was playing the role of an assassin so that idea wasn't out of the question.

"You don't think this will be fun?" Though, maybe it was a little messed up to find it fun to basically look forward to a game that would eventually end with his death.

Well, he never said that he wasn't a bit fucked up.

"Because you don't seem like the type to try anything pretty underhanded. A little too honest for that," Abel says with a light enough smile. It isn't said in a mocking tone, but more matter-of-fact. Honestly, the other seemed like a good man. A good man in a rather unfortunate situation. "I wouldn't stop you though. If that's how you wanted to do it," he replies with a shrug.

"I think you and I have very different definitions of fun." A job in murder wasn't his idea of it.

Jonathan walked over towards where Abel was sitting, reaching out a hand to wrap around the other's neck with little warning but the thought may have been there to alert the other as he had crossed the room. There was no pressure to the touch, he just wanted to see how easy it would've been. To feel the the other's pulse under his fingertips.

He believes Abel's words that he wouldn't stop him but he did make a deal in playing the game and the other was right about him not outright killing him at the easiest opportunity. Jonathan tilts his head, giving a rather muddled expression, "You are a strange one."

He couldn't wrap his head around Abel being so nonchalant about his eventual death by his hand.

When love became an act of defiance

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Idk why i have this one lol

we made the new thread so we can suffer sooner.

ah

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